All the Right Moves
by Shinju90
Summary: AU The word 'Gifted' is defined as 'having great special talent of ability.' But during the mid 21st Century the word gained new meaning as children were discovered to be developing psychic abilities. SLASH eventually McGibbs.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: All the Right Moves

**Characters**: Tim, Gibbs, Ziva, and Tony

**Genre**: AU, Drama, Slash

**Rating**: FR15

**Pairings**: Gibbs/McGee  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Challenge:** The Boys Wrapped in Plot

**Spoilers**: Spoilers for characters up to season nine.  
><strong>Summary<strong>: The word 'Gifted' is defined as 'having great special talent of ability.' But during the mid 21st Century the word gained new meaning as children were discovered to be developing psychic abilities. Tim McGee is a 1st degree technopath, he has managed to keep his gift a secret all of his life...Until Ziva David-Hadar found him.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

"It is not a negative thing Tim. Just admit it!"

"For the last time Ziva, no! Now please cut it out. We have customers."

Ziva David-Hadar laughed, leaning far enough over the check-out counter that she could see the three young college students browsing through the accessories at the back of the store. Their heads were stuck close together as they compared two different computer games.

"I am sure that if I explained the situation and gave them all the facts they would agree with me. Admit it Tim, you have a 'boy crush' on our handsome Private Eye."

Timothy McGee's face reddened. His eyes searched the store, checking whether any of his customers were within earshot. The three college boys were still huddled together, seemingly unable to reach a decision. A middle-aged woman was browsing the desktops with a pre-teen girl that was most likely her daughter. A few others filtered though the isles of computer products and accessories that the store carried. None appeared to have heard Ziva's comment, but just to be safe...Tim placed a firm hand on the younger woman's shoulder, herding her out from behind the counter and into his small office.

The door shut behind him with a snap and the owner of the small computer store flopped ungracefully into the chair behind his desk. Bills piled on the desk shook out of their neat stacks, some slipped over the edge and fell to the floor. Tim leaned back with a groan, covering his flushed face with his hands.

"Please don't say things like that in front of the customers Ziva. Not that I've got a problem with stuff like that. It's just, I've never…I don't want them to hear and start gossiping before I figure it all out for myself." He paused, then peeked a weary yet curious eye towards his business partner. "What makes you think I've got a bo- a crush on Detective Gibbs?"

Ziva smiled. Hitching a hip onto the desk she tapped the laptop sitting, repaired and ready to be returned to it's owner, in front of her friend.

"Well for starters, you repaired his laptop for a fraction of the price you would have charged another customer. Also, despite the fact that you know he will not come in to pick it up personally you still insisted that we open the store early this morning, to be easier on his schedule." Her lips quirked into a wicked smirk and she leaned forward to whisper into his ear. "That does not even begin to cover the attention that you give the man during our _other_ job."

With another loud groan Tim dropped his head onto his desk, covering his ears with his hands. Ziva laughed as she made her way to the door. It looked like the college kids were ready to check out. A quiet noise made her pause and turn. Tim looked up at her, face still flushed but looking infinitely happier.

"Thank you Ziva. It's just…I've never been attracted to another guy before. I'm allowed to be a little confused and freaked out for awhile."

She smiled at him and he could not help but smile back.

"You are welcome Tim. Remember, if you ever need to talk about anything I will always be there." A blink, a momentary pause. "And after you two get together I will be counting on you to share all the messy details."

"Ziva!"

The Israeli woman slipped out of the office before Tim could decide if he were willing to draft his paperweights as grenades.

Half an hour later the door swung open, sounding the wind chimes that hung above it. Tim glanced up from behind the counter where he sat, fingertips resting on the keyboard of his laptop browsing the Internet, and watched as a familiar face swaggered inside out of the heat.

Tony DiNozzo was a handsome man. He walked with his head held high, practically oozing confidence. Tim tried to study him covertly as he paused in the middle of the store to flirt with a college student looking to replace her laptop. He judged by the suit Tony wore (very nicely tailored but completely impractical for today's weather) that he and his partner were working a case. Tim frowned, closely scrutinizing the older man's body.

Ziva slipped up to the counter beside him, setting Gibbs' laptop down carefully. Leaning on his shoulder she watched DiNozzo from beneath half-lidded lashes. Unlike Tim, she made no attempt to conceal her attentions.

"He is a rather handsome man is he not?" Tim looked at her and raised an eyebrow. She smirked, leaning close to whisper in his ear. "I am merely wondering if you had ever felt a sexual attraction towards Detective DiNozzo. Comparing your feelings towards Gibbs against other men will help solve your sexuality issues will it not?"

Tim flushed, embarrassed that he had been caught so obviously evaluating the other man. He glared hard at his friend as DiNozzo approached the counter, a clear warning that she should keep her mouth shut.

"Hey there McGeek Squad! You got the Bossman's laptop fixed yet? I swear, for someone who can't seem to figure out how to navigate the Internet he seems to download a bunch of viruses."

Tim blanched slightly at the nickname. It wasn't the most original of nicknames that Tony had ever come up with. Tim had heard it many times growing up, from much less well-meaning men and boys. Frowning he looked down at the laptop on the counter. It wasn't a newer model and had clearly been designed to withstand some wear and tear.

"Yep, all fixed, all files safe and secure. I went ahead and installed some new anti-virus programs free of charge. Hopefully it will protect this baby from anything your boss can put it through."

Tony laughed.

"Them's fightin' words McGee. I tell Gibbs that you 'Gibbs proofed' his laptop and he might just go out of his way to prove you wrong."

Tim laughed feeling slight warmth in his chest. "If he does manage to get it infected again I'll fix it for free!" Tony smirked, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes and somewhere in his imagination Tim could hear an official voice booming 'Challenge Accepted.' He sighed, mentally shaking his head. He really needed to spend less time on Internet memes. "I'll go get your case while Ziva rings you up."

Ziva's eyes were bright as she stepped up to the register. She ran an appraising eye over Tony as he lent against the counter.

"Are you working a _hot_ case today Detective? You seem a little dressed up for today's weather." Tony smiled, smoothing a hand down the lines of his suit and straightening his tie.

"Oh we've got a hot case alright. Smokin' hot woman came in today to see if we'd had any progress finding her missing husband." He rested his chin on his palm, leaning forwards conspiratorially. "She thinks he's stepping out on her."

"And you are making yourself available in the instance that he is and she wants revenge sex?" Ziva laughed and Tim reappeared, eyebrow raised questioningly and laptop case in hand. Tony scoffed, standing stiff his face a mask of mock outrage.

"Ziva David-Hadar! How could you think such a thing of me? To think that I would use my job to take advantage of an emotionally unstable woman to have angry, angry sex." His eyes took on a dazed quality as he clearly fantasized for a moment before Ziva snapped her fingers in front of his face. He snapped back to reality slowly, clearing his throat loudly before continuing where he had left off. "Such a thought is ridiculous! I'm being a perfect gentlemen, a shoulder to cry on."

Tim laughed at the image as he loaded the laptop carefully into its carry case. Tony snatched his credit card from Ziva's proffered hand with another sigh. Sticking it into his wallet he slumped against the counter with dejection.

"No, if anyone is going to get cried on it's going to be Gibbs. The man refuses to work cheating husband cases. He tosses all of them to me. Which means I'm going to be the nasty man to tell her that her husband has a mistress ten years younger than her and she'll never want to see me again." Tony fingered through the pamphlets littered across the counter. They covered everything from basic computer maintenance to an afternoon computer class Tim taught on the weekends.

"I really don't know what he was expecting when he opened a Private Detective agency. Man probably watched to many Film Noir films as a kid." Tim shook his head slightly as he offered the older man his laptop bag. He didn't see Gibbs as a film noir kind of man.

"I think that you're thinking of yourself again DiNozzo. Weren't you waxing poetic about film noir detectives the last time you were in here?" Ziva's eyebrows furrowed as she shot her friend a sharp glance.

"'Waxing poetic'? How does one wax poetic? Is that another of your ridiculous American idioms?"

Tony laughed at Tim's exasperated sigh as he took the bag, slinging the strap over his shoulder and waving before heading for the exit.

"Yes Ziva, it's just an expression." Tim eyed her, raising an eyebrow at her mischievous smirk. Sometimes he wondered if she said such things on purpose. It seemed like something that would amuse her.

A bell rang somewhere in the back of the store. The two exchanged surprised glances. The bell rang again and Tim took off. He quickly paced down isles, stepping around customers until he reached a door at the back of the store labeled 'Employees Only.' Squeezing between shelves of stocked items he reached the back door as the bell rang again. He swung the heavy door open to reveal a scowling man in a FedEx uniform.

"I'm so sorry! I was at the front of the store and didn't hear the bell at first."

The man gave a curt nod and glanced down at the clipboard in his hands. Tim glanced at the large package to his side. It was possible that it was another delivery of parts for the store, surely their other delivery couldn't have arrived already. Malachi had only confirmed that he had sent it last night.

But sure enough the package bore customs stamps from England. It was Malachi's package. Tim felt his heart rate pick up slightly.

"I need you to sign for this Sir."

Tim shook himself from his thoughts, nodding to the man and quickly signing the form held out to him. The man tapped his foot with impatience, turning on his heel as soon as his clipboard was returned to him. Tim studied the package on his back step as the delivery truck rumbled away.

Ziva appeared silently at his elbow, her face bright and excited.

"The last of the customers have gone. I locked up and set the sign to closed. It is Malachi's package is it not?" She stepped outside, crouching down to get a better look at the shipping label. "It is! He sent this one first class. I think that they would like feedback on it quickly this time."

She grabbed the box eagerly and, shoving past Tim, practically ran up the stairs to the right of the door. Tim heard the door to the upstairs apartment fly open as Ziva's voice called down.

"Come on McGee! We've got work to do!"

With more patience than his partner Tim secured the back door. Making his rounds through the store he checked to make sure that the front door and all the windows were locked down tight. As he passed by the counter he ran a finger along the edge of the sales computer. In an instant all of the computers in the shop began their shut down sequences. With a smile Tim headed for the stairs.

Ziva had left the door to her apartment open but Tim made sure that it was locked behind him. He was always careful about locking the doors when Malachi sent Ziva and him presents. However unlikely it is that someone would walk in on them it was always better to be safe then sorry.

Ziva already had the package opened, packing peanuts scattered over the floor of the corner she had designated their dojo. Tim couldn't help but smile as he looked over the space. It had been so empty when he first bought the store. The lofty area always seemed cold when he had used it for storage.

But Ziva had turned it into a home. Tim blushed as he averted his eyes from the corner she had turned into her bedroom. A home complete with underwear lying out in the open.

Exclaiming loudly in Hebrew Ziva drew his attention back towards the box. He approached slowly, wondering if he should be worried about how excited Ziva was getting. As he neared she pulled a jacket of what appeared to be body armor from the box to examine it more closely. Tim's eyes widened as he stepped nearer. The jacket was made of thick kevlar and strategically covered with thick plates to protect the chest and stomach. Rounded shoulder pads and arm guards covered both arms.

"What does Mossad think we're fighting over here, tanks?"

Ziva glared at him.

"Mossad does not design this body armor just for us Tim. They design it for Israeli soldiers. We are merely the hamsters that test it out."

Tim blanched. He knelt on the floor beside the box not meeting Ziva's eyes as he pulled out a second kevlar jacket. It was lighter than he had expected and more flexible.

"I'm sorry Ziva. I didn't mean it like that." She nodded, still staring intently at the jacket in her hands. Loudly he cleared his throat and peered back into the box. "So what did they send for us to test this time?" He pulled out a thin cylindrical item and turned it over in his hands. He frowned, it didn't seem to have any function. He couldn't find any electricity or computer chip inside.

"That is not one of the items they would like us to test." Ziva smirked and took it from his hands. Stepping away she flicked her wrist and the cylinder stretched to the length of her forearm. Tim's eyes widened.

"Oh! It's a nightstick. That could come in useful I suppose." Ziva nodded, collapsing the nightstick and tossing it back to him.

"That, I requested for you. I have no need for it." She returned to the box. Tim saw several cans of what he assumed were pepper spray join the jackets on the floor before something smacked him heavily in the face. He caught whatever it was as it fell into his lap. His eyes lit up with excitement.

"Are these the gloves?"

Ziva nodded smiling as Tim eagerly examined them. The material was the same kevlar as the jackets and it was surprisingly comfortable as he pulled the left glove on. It fit snuggly to his hand except the tips of his fingers, which were exposed. Each glove had a thick plate covering the knuckles as well as the heel of his palm.

"Does this mean you'll start teaching me to fight now? I've been looking online, I didn't find much about open-palmed fighting styles."

Ziva grinned her dark eyes dancing with mischief.

"The fighting I will be teaching you isn't actually a style of martial arts. But yes, I will begin teaching you tomorrow." When Tim gave her a puzzled glance her grin grew fierce. She picked up the final two items lying on the bottom of the box. Tossing one to Tim she secured a rounded, jet black mask to her face.

"Remember the tip you intercepted from the police two nights ago? I think that tonight would be the perfect opportunity to give Mossad's new prototypes their first test run." Picking up the jacket in her size and the matching pants Ziva walked towards her bedroom, slipping behind her privacy screen to change.

Tim studied the mask. It was a different shape than Ziva's and not completely black. The areas that surrounded the eye holes were a metallic green. With a grin to match his friends Tim secured the mask into place.

"It's a shame that Officer Fornell never got the tip that Ricky Napolitano and his buddy Sal were going to steal a new prototype from DWB Electronics. I hear that he's really jonesing to catch any of Hasewari's thugs."

Ziva's laugh carried across the room.

"Perhaps we will turn them over to him when we are finished with them."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"Are you sure that they're gonna be coming Boss? Cause if they aren't I still _might_ be able to make it to my date before she bails."

Gibbs lowered the binoculars he was using to watch the industrial laboratory's rear door. He turned slightly to stare at his partner. Tony's grin wilted slightly and with a sigh he slumped down in his seat.

"Oh well, there will be other fish...Other nights to stand them up." The younger man lifted the high definition digital camera to his eye, twisting the lens as be focused on the door across the deserted street. "It's gonna be pretty ironic if we get stood up too. You don't think they could have been tipped off? If they don't show up soon I think we're both gonna need a dinner run. Your mysterious contact would have happened to include a time now would he? She?"

Gibbs barely resisted the smirk that pulled at his lips. Tony could fish for information all that he wanted. Gibbs had worked hard to find a man brave, or desperate, enough to keep him updated on the happenings of Ari Hasewari's crime syndicate. He wasn't about to risk the man's life by telling even Tony, whom he completely trusted.

He was sure that Tony had contacts of his own that he kept secret. Like where he secreted his laptop off to whenever it broke. The man always returned from those trips with a huge shit-eating grin. But he would never ask Tony about his contacts.

After all, rule four was there for a reason.

Ignoring the younger man he brought the binoculars back up, scanning up and down the street. His snitch hadn't happened to include a time. But that was what stakeouts were for.

"So, what exactly were Little Ricky and Sal after anyway? I thought Ari's gang were all Gifted? Aren't the DWB board pretty outspoken against people with Gifts?" Tony couldn't keep the contempt from his voice at the mention of the DWB board. Even though his own _Charm_ Gift was the 3rd degree, the lowest that could still qualify as Gifted, he was firmly on DWB's list of 'freaks.'

"Didn't the cops determine that he had a _Persuasion_ Gift? What does he need DWB tech for? He doesn't need a machine or something to suppress someone's gift. He can already make them do anything he wants."

Tony shuddered and Gibbs couldn't blame him. Ari Hasewari and his syndicate of Gifted thugs were the number one reason that Anti-Gifted sentiments were on the rise throughout the country. After all, if the neither the police nor the FBI couldn control the Gifted of D.C. what hope did small town America have?

Not being Gifted himself Gibbs could understand the basis for the argument. But he couldn't agree with it. People with Gifts were just like everyone else. They all had to make choices with how to live their lives. Having a Gift was no different than owning a gun. It was up to the owner whether or not to pull the trigger.

The counter argument to that however was that guns were licensed. But just because someone didn't have a license didn't mean that they couldn't get a hold of a gun.

"I mean, you've seen Fornell's security tapes from some of his crime scenes? I snuck a peek last time I was at the station." Tony was practically twitching with nerves remembering the grainy black and white footage. "The bank heist last month. Did you know he pulled that off all by himself?"

He had. Officer Fornell had made sure that a copy of the footage had made it's way onto his desk.

"He just walked in like he was on a Sunday stroll! Told the civilians to please lay down, had the tellers open the vault and start packing up the money. Then as he was leaving he turned to the security guard and told him to kill everyone! Like it was an afterthought!" Tony's voice had risen in volume and rage as he had talked. Now he was practically yelling, back rigid. His grip on the camera was so tight his knuckles were turning white.

"And then BAM!" His fist collided with the dash for emphasis. "He just did it! Nobody ran, they just laid there while he walked around and picked 'em all off. One by one." Tony resumed his slumped posture. "Poor bastard shot himself when he came back to his senses. That man had two kids Boss!"

Gibbs clenched his jaw. He had seen the faces of that man's children spread across the front page of every tabloid and newspaper in DC. Sometimes he thought they should lock up the soulless reporters alongside the death row inmates.

"We'll get him Tony."

Tony turned to face his boss. His green eyes were filled with a deep dejection.

"I used to believe that, back when I was still on the force." He paused, considering his next words with care. "But after Kate…I just don't know anymore. I mean, no one can even find him! The bastards a ghost!"

Gibbs hand snapped out, slapping Tony hard on the back of his head.

"We will get him."

The words were ground out with such surety and conviction that Tony couldn't help grinning as he rubbed his head.

"Thanks Boss."

Again he lifted the camera and began taking shots of the empty street.

"But why are we here? Officer's Fornell and Sacks were only too pleased to pick up Little Ricky and his buddy Sal when you told them about your tip. Wouldn't our time be better spent interrogating them than stalking a couple of vigilantes that might not even show?"

Gibbs lowered the binoculars, raising an eyebrow towards his partner. Any other night the younger man would be chomping at the bit for a chance to chase down the vigilante he had dubbed a female Batman. But now that the two detectives finally had the upper hand he appeared hesitant.

"The woman at least has some Special Forces training." Tony sat up in his seat, eyes wide with the shock of actually getting an answer out of the other man. "When the government identified him as the child of an Israeli man and an Arab woman they sent requests to Mossad to identify him. Mossad said they had no record for him. That he wasn't on any of their watch lists."

Gibbs shifted in his seat as movement in the shadows across the street caught his eye. Motioning to DiNozzo he raised the binoculars again, watching as the two figures crept out of the dark. He whistled low under his breath as they reached the door and stepped into the light.

"I'd bet my house that that woman is Israeli. If she isn't Mossad, someone from Mossad has spent a lot of time training her. If those new duds are any indication Mossad is outfitting them too. That mean's we were lied to while Mossad sent someone over here to clean up their mess. I want to know why they lied. Why they didn't take care of him when he was still on their turf."

Both sunk low in their seats as Tony snapped shot after shot. It was rare for anyone to get a picture of these two. The woman's accomplice had a nasty habit of using his Gift to wipe all the security cameras before they left a scene.

"But even if we catch them, if she's Mossad do you really think that she'll talk? Don't they torture them as part of their training?"

Gibbs nodded, watching as the young man stepped up to the door. Through the binoculars he had a clear view of the man touching the door handle. After a moment's pause he stepped back, allowing the woman to pick the tumbler lock. Soon they were both slipping inside the empty building.

"Even if she does get caught you're right. There's nothing we could do short of prolonged torture to make her talk." Gibbs dropped the binoculars into the back seat then double-checked that his gun was loaded and that his handcuffs were attached to his belt.

"I don't expect to catch her. You chase her to your hearts content and keep her as preoccupied as you can."

They both exited the car, closing the doors of the sedan as quietly as possible.

"There's a reason the police don't take the support team into the field until it's been cleared. That _Technopath_ she's been dragging along with her the last month or two has no training whatsoever. He's the weak link. That's where I'm going to get my information."

Drawing their weapons the two private detectives crossed the street and followed their targets into the dark building.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

The large warehouse that DWB Electronics had converted into a production laboratory was dead silent. Through the darkness Tim could see the large machines and conveyer belts used to assemble the pieces of their products. He couldn't help but shiver at the frigid atmosphere of the place.

"Hurry Tim. We must find where they keep the prototype before Ari's thugs arrive."

Ziva slipped through the room, dancing around machines and under conveyer belts without making a sound. She moved like a shadow, barely disturbing the air around her as she passed. Tim followed her, although not near as silently, attempting to keep his fingers from touching any of the machinery that he passed.

It wasn't that he was worried about fingerprints. When he first began to go out on these insane ventures with Ziva he had hacked into every database that contained his prints and wiped them clean. Now the only record remaining was a dusty paper file held by his elementary school.

Tim didn't want anything to do with these machines. He did not want to seem the electronics inside them, to feel the functions that made them tick. They were created by DWB for the sole purpose of suppressing a person's Gift. He felt dirty simply being this close to them.

"What does Ari want this prototype for? Do we even know what it does? Does he?" His words echoed to the high ceilings of the otherwise silent building. For a moment he thought something in the shadows behind him moved. Pausing he stared deep into the darkness. When nothing moved again he shook himself and hurried to catch up with Ziva. This damned place was making him jumpy.

"Anything coming out of DWB is sure to only cause trouble." At the end of the room was a large hallway, the entrance covered with clear plastic flaps for forklifts to pass through. Together they slunk down the hallway, peering through each door they passed. "They have another production lab down in Texas. Last month a couple of Gifted College students staged a protest outside their gate. They weren't doing anything destructive, just holding signs. Well, DWB security started shooting them! No fatal shots but they are still getting sued by every Gifted rights organization in the U.S."

"Has it never occurred to you that Ari's gift may not work on all people the same way?" Ziva's flippant comment caused Tim to stop dead in his tracks. She paused beside another door, unlabeled, to investigate it's superior lock. "When he was training his Gift there were people that he could not completely control. People with the Gift of _Charm_ and _Technopath's_ of higher degree's gave him the most trouble."

Tim stared, eyes wide. Somehow the idea never had occurred to him. Ari had had trouble controlling _Technopath's_? For a moment the sense of relief he felt was overwhelming. How many nights had he been woken by nightmares of harming his friends or family?

But almost as quickly as it had come the relief vanished.

"But that was while he was still training! Surely his control is much better now."

Ziva looked up, her dark eyes catching hold of Tim's and holding them. Standing she took a step closer too him.

"As far as I know, Ari has never had to test his Gift against a _Technopath_ of the 1st degree. Up to the day he…" Here she paused, her eyes darkening with fury. "Up to the day he left Israel Ari could not completely control 2nd degree _Technopath's_. It was theorized that their brains are wired differently than most other peoples. Including other Gifted people."

She said it all with a secretive smile, a tiny upward quirk of her lips. Her eyes were bright and dancing. Tim could feel her optimism, her joy. She believed she had a secret weapon up her sleeve. A weapon that Ari did not know about and could not control even if he did. The weight of that belief rested heavily on Tim's shoulders.

"Now!" She poked the locked door with a finger. "Come here and help me get this open. We will search this room first."

Tim stepped forward, fingers poised to brush against the handle. His power seemed simple. All he had to do to control a piece of technology was touch it with a fingertip. It was much more complex than that. The metal against his skin was cool, beside him Ziva was inhaling.

For a moment his eyes took on a blank stare as he reached for the electronic lock with his Gift. Mentally he ran along the wires of the device, searching for the computer chip that controlled the locking mechanism. The electronic signals whisked him away from the door. Far away on the other side of the warehouse he found the security control room. Once there he allowed himself an indulgence. Slipping into the other systems he wiped the last thirty minutes from the security cameras and then shut them down. Then he unlocked the door.

The metal was still cool underneath his fingertip. Ziva was still inhaling. With a loud 'click' the door came unlocked…just as the fluorescent lights flickered on throughout the warehouse.

Tim and Ziva both froze.

Ricky and Sal wouldn't have been stupid enough to turn on the lights of a building they were preparing to burglarize. Someone else must be inside the lab. Tim felt a cold sweat break out as Ziva grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the closest exit she could remember seeing. He couldn't let someone from DWB find them here! Who knew what they would do to him? Finding a _Technopath_ stealing one of their precious prototypes would cause an uproar with the Anti-Gifted movements.

They could not be caught.

Neither of the two bothered with silence as they flew back down the hallway. Their hurried footsteps pounded loudly, reverberating like a frantic drumbeat against the walls. Finally the glowing Exit sign was in sight. Tim threw himself against it, expecting the door to fly open.

It did not.

Through a small sliver of an opening they could see the outside world, warm air drifted in, but no matter how hard they pushed the door would open no further.

"All of the doors, except one have been chained from the outside." Tim froze, he hadn't thought it was possible to become more terrified but he was. He turned slightly, stepping away from the door. Ziva moved in front of him, guarding him, but he could clearly see over her shoulder.

Detective's Gibbs and DiNozzo stood at the end of the hallway. Tim's blood ran cold. Gibbs' Sig Sauer was aimed right at his head. Still holding his hand Ziva squeezed it, painfully tight. Tim took a deep breath. He had get control of himself, of his fear. They had a plan for this! Ziva had a plan for almost everything.

"That was my brilliant idea by the way." DiNozzo was beaming, but it was hard to relate him with the man Tim saw in his store. There was something much more volatile about DiNozzo on the clock. "After all, there no tech like low-tech to beat a _Technopath_!"

"Put your hands on your head. Surrender peacefully and maybe we won't shoot you."

Gibbs' voice was a quiet growl. It cut through Tim's fear, provoking a completely inappropriate response for the time. Tim took another deep breath and he tore his eyes away from Gibbs. Quickly he squeezed his partner's hand in response. Ziva was still guarding him, she couldn't see him, but she had gotten the message.

He was ready whenever she was.

Without any words the two took off again, back down the hallway they had come. At the first available intersection they separated. Tim went left while Ziva kept running straight. He could hear a set of footsteps behind him, but didn't dare to look.

The two had encountered Gibbs and DiNozzo before on their nights out. Usually as they were fleeing a scene. But Gibbs, as a former Marine, had surely seen enough to know that Ziva was the larger threat of the two. Surely he would send his partner after the weaker link, the safer target.

The feet were drawing closer. Just when Tim was sure he would be captured he caught sight of the emergency stairs. He flew through the door, quickly slamming it behind him. Extending his Gift he adjusted the electronic mechanism inside the latch. When the second body threw itself against the door, it remained shut.

Tim couldn't help his triumphant smile as he looked out the small glass window of the door. He expected to meet DiNozzo's frustrated green eyes glaring at him. He had not expected the icy blue stare of Gibbs.

Tim's smile faltered. On the other side of the door Gibbs pushed at the latch, rattling the door loudly. Tim was frozen in place. This was the closest he had ever stood to Detective Gibbs. Only a single door and a few feet were separating them.

Gibbs stared back at him. After a moment his eyes narrowed. He leaned forward and unconsciously Tim found himself leaning forward as well. Gibbs poked a single finger on the glass, pointing to Tim. Then he said, clear enough for Tim to read his lips.

"I will catch you."

He had heard the idiom about having butterflies in your stomach. It was something that Tim had thought he had experienced before. When he was accepted to MIT at the age of 16. When his Gift began to manifest that same year. When he finally realized that with his Gift, he could never excel at school or risk being called a cheater later in life.

None of those events could even compare to the feeling he had now. Warmth spread through his chest. Before he knew what he was doing a large grin split across his face. Never breaking eye contact he waved jauntily to Gibbs before turning and jogging up the stairs.

It wasn't healthy, this obsession he had been cultivating for Detective Gibbs.

Long before he had met Ziva he had admired the man. He had leaned against the counter in his shop, listening as Kate Todd told him stories about her partner and the cases that they worked together. It had started out simply. Just admiration. But then it grew and before he knew what had happened he was waking in the middle of the night, in soiled sheets with the detectives name on his lips.

Tim made sure to secure the doors on every level he passed. He couldn't let himself slip up. If Gibbs caught him than the game would be over. He didn't want the game to end before it had barely had a chance to begin. Another flight of stairs climbed and another door was locked. Tim's smile hadn't faded, his quiet laughter echoed through the staircase mingling with the staccato beat of his footsteps.

He knew it wasn't healthy.

Gibbs didn't have any feelings for him. Except maybe anger or exasperation. Since they were technically on opposite sides of the law Gibbs would probably never feel anything for him anyway. Even if the whole 'Tim being a man' issue _wasn't_ a problem.

But still…Gibbs wanted to catch him!

It seemed like the set up to a bad movie or a smutty romance novel. The detective falls in love with the flirty lawbreaker he was supposed to catch.

Tim mentally slapped himself and then a second time for good measure.

This was not a bad movie. It was not a romance novel. This was real life and things like that did not happen in real life. Swallowing hard the young man halted, he had reached the door to the roof. His fingertips brushed the cold metal of the handle and it took less than a second to disable the lock and alarm. He stepped out into the warm night air with a heavy sigh.

This, _unfortunately_, was real life. He could flirt with Detective Gibbs as much as he wanted with this mask on. But Gibbs would not fall for him. The most it could get him would be a sexual harassment charge when he was finally caught!

The sky was dark overhead, the stars obscured by the bright lights of D.C. Gravel covered the rooftop and it crunched as he walked across it. His eyes searched for his partner.

Plan C was to be put into action if all routes of escape are blocked off. Separate, to provide more targets, and head to the roof. Tim could see the fire escape to the South. Turning, he headed in that direction, wondering if Ziva was waiting for him there.

The shadows moved to his left and a figure shot out of the darkness. A hand roughly grabbed his left arm and tossed him against the door to the stairs. As his dominant arm was wrenched behind his back he couldn't resist the sob of pain that ripped past his lips. Then the butterflies in his stomach died as the cold metal of a handcuff slipped around his wrist and a quiet voice whispered in his ear.

"That didn't take long."

Tim thrashed violently, ripping his free arm away from the waiting cuff. He couldn't let Gibbs catch him! He would be sent to prison! The only time he would ever see Gibbs again would be at his trial. DiNozzo would know who he was. All the work for them that he had done would be put into question. The laptop he had so lovingly cared for would probably be put into evidence or scrapped. Ziva would have to flee, her quest to kill Ari put on hold as she evaded arrest herself.

Tim managed to turn, to get his back to the wall. He had never thrown a punch before and Ziva had warned him not to try. He couldn't risk damaging his fingers. He pushed at the stronger man, striking at him with the hard plate on the palm of his glove. Nothing worked! He was going to be caught!

Then Gibbs was pulled away.

Ziva's fist jabbed out, slamming into the older man's solar plexus and Gibbs dropped to the ground, gasping for breath. Tim stared in shock. He hadn't wanted to hurt him! Grabbing his wrist Ziva pulled him urgently towards the North side of the building. Tim lagged behind not taking his eyes off of Gibbs kneeling form. She pulled at him harshly, jangling the handcuff.

"He will be fine! Come on, we must hurry!"

Finally Tim turned, allowing Ziva to pull him along. She began to sprint, gathering speed. In an instant Tim realized that they were running in the opposite direction of the fire escape. But by then it was too late. Ziva released his hand. Then she was airborne.

Tim felt his pulse pounding throughout his body. In his chest. In his throat. In his ears.

For a moment time seemed to slow. He saw Ziva jump. Her feet left the gravel to land momentarily on the short wall at the edge of the building; before propelling her into the open air. His own feet were carrying him steadily in the same direction and he wondered what his friend was thinking. Ziva might be a parkour enthusiast, but Tim had never jumped from anything higher than the monkey bars in elementary school.

But if there had been any other way possible Ziva would have taken it.

Time resumed it scheduled course. Tim could hear DiNozzo scrambling behind him, screaming obscenities, calling for him to stop. Gravel shifted under his right foot, his left foot found the wall and then he was flying.

He could see Ziva landing. The next building wasn't far away, Tim didn't doubt that he would make the jump. He was worried about the landing. Ziva's feet touched the roof and she instinctively rolled forward. The roll spread the impact across a larger surface area, reducing the damage to her ankles and knees. As he fell, closer and closer to the roof, Tim played that roll over and over again in his head. He focused on the mechanics.

Go straight into the roll.

Roll on the shoulder, down the back with his head to the side.

Come back up onto his feet.

Tim's feet met the roof. Pain jolted through his ankles. He went into the roll and smacked his chin hard against the gravel. He did not come back up onto his feet. Instead he lie in the gravel groaning with pain. Ziva was at his side in an instant, turning him onto his back.

"Tim! Are you all right? I am sorry, I should have found another way!" He blinked up at her, dazed, as she checked him for injuries. "Can you walk Tim? We need to go quickly, before DiNozzo tries to make that jump himself."

He nodded, pushing himself into a sitting position with his skinned hands. Gibbs' handcuffs still jangled from his left wrist. Ziva pulled his right arm across her shoulders, gripping him across the back as he rose to his feet. A sharp cry of pain escaped his lips when he put weight onto his right ankle. Together he and Ziva hobbled towards the fire escape and began the long, and painful, climb down.

"I am sorry Tim. If I had started teaching you earlier you would have been able to escape his hold on you. I should have never brought you out here untrained. Now I have possibly broken you." Tim couldn't help but chuckle at the irony. Ziva had resisted training him for so long _because_ she was worried he would get hurt.

"But no longer. If, when you have healed, you still wish to accompany me you will be trained." She smirked. "You will at least know how to roll when you fall."

Tim released a groan that had nothing to do with the pain in his ankle. He could see a great amount of falling in his future.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

It was just about an hour till noon by the time Tony shuffled into their shared office space. Gibbs had gotten a good deal on the building after his early retirement from NCIS in 2001. It seemed that the orange walls had put everyone else off but Gibbs kind of liked them. So instead of painting over them like the realtor had suggested, the walls retained their interesting color palette.

He watched with an amused eye as his partner headed straight for the still hot coffeepot on the small counter beside the door to the bathroom. Yawning he grabbed the only clean mug left, that showed a cartoon policeman, and poured until it was practically full. His desk was his final destination and he flopped lazily into his cushioned swivel chair. Resting his chin on his left hand Tony inhaled the aroma of the coffee while his right hand fished around in the top drawer.

Gibbs sipped at his own coffee, watching as Tony found what he was searching for and set it all onto his desk. He spooned liberally from the large container of sugar as he decided between several flavored creamers that had most likely been appropriated from the diner down the street. Finally deciding on the hazelnut flavor he stirred that in as well before taking a gentle sip. Groaning happily with pleasure he looked at Gibbs for the first time, a contented smile on his face.

Gibbs had watched with disgust as the younger man destroyed the beverage, but none of that showed on his face. Over the rim of his to-go coffee cup he watched as Tony settled in to begin work for the day.

"You done?"

Tony blinked, confused for a moment, then realized that Gibbs was not holding a mug. With a sigh he looked mournfully to his own beverage before nodding.

"Yeah, I'm done."

Gibbs smirked as he stood, already well prepared to leave. Tony scrambled to grab his badge and gun.

"Good. Fornell called, he want's to meet us at Ducky's. Apparently he has more to share with us than what his overnight interrogation turned up."

Tony groaned.

"It's too early for corpses Boss. Officer Slacks doesn't become human again until _at least_ after one!"

"Morning's already gone DiNozzo, it's afternoon already. You slept half the day away."

Gibbs' yellow and black 1971 Dodge Challenger was parked outside of their small office building next to the curb. Despite the value of the classic car neither door was locked. There was no punk in DC brave enough to steal from Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

Not after what had happened to the last guy.

"Because I didn't get to bed until well after four AM! I don't know why the metro cops always keep _me_ for questioning while they let you waltz off the scene." Tony flinched slightly, squeezing his eyes shut, in anticipation as Gibbs checked the road behind them for oncoming traffic. "It must be your intimidating exterior sir."

When he felt no slap to the back of his head Tony peeked an eye open. Gibbs smirked, pointedly not looking at his partner as he pulled out onto the street. Eventually the other man relaxed enough to turn on the radio, bobbing his head to the music. They were halfway to the city's morgue before Gibbs' hand shot out and slapped the younger man's head.

"It's no fun if you know it's coming."

-_NCIS_-

"Officer Slacks! It's always nice to see you alive and awake. Did you enjoy your brain breakfast?"

Police Detective Ron Sacks' glare was cold as the body lain out on the examination table. He turned to his partner, Tobias Fornell, as Gibbs and Tony entered the autopsy suite.

"What the hell are they doing here Tobias? This is the first time we've gotten a real lead in months and you bring in _them_?" His voice was venomous. "This is our case Tobias. We do not need their help!" He turned, leveling a glare as the two private detectives drew closer. "We do not need you getting in the way of our investigation!"

Tony grinned, ignoring Sacks completely as he addressed Fornell.

"You should really put a muzzle on your dog Fornell. It's the yappy ones that are really annoying."

Sacks fist clenched, shaking the barely controlled fury. Gibbs and Fornell watched them with carefully hidden amusement.

"You should watch yourself DiNozzo. He bites."

For a moment Tony mocked a startled expression, quickly drawing away from Sacks as if he feared being bitten. Then, with a grave tone, he turned back to Fornell.

"You should definitely muzzle him then! I hear the humane society puts the biters down."

Sacks growled, preparing a retort but was interrupted as Ducky and his young assistant- Jimmy Palmer entered.

"Now, now gentlemen. This is not the time for arguments." Ducky's voice was sharp with a twinge of anger that made his accent was more obvious than usual. "In case you cannot tell we have a guest and I would appreciate it if you kept your family squabbles to yourselves in her presence."

All four reigned in their personal feelings at the harsh reminder that there was a job to do. Tony and Gibbs stepped up closer to the examination table, looking over the condition of the body of a young woman.

She had probably been beautiful at one point, but starvation had hallowed her face. Her skin was stretched tightly over her bones. Dry brown hair hung limply from her head. Gibbs was abruptly reminded of rescued prisoners of war. It wasn't difficult to guess why she had died.

The city's Chief Medical Examiner eyed the young woman sorrowfully. Mr. Palmer had covered her body with a sheet after they completed the autopsy to preserve her modesty. Surely he was doing something right with his assistant.

"As you can see this poor woman was horribly starved. I'll have to wait on Abby for precise dates, but it appears that she hasn't had a complete nutritious meal in months. Though what killed her in the end was dehydration." Lifting the sheet slightly he pulled her left arm out to display his findings. "Up until a short time ago it appears that she was receiving fluids, probably some nutrients as well, there are track mark on her arms where an I.V. had been inserted. There are signs that the I.V. was forcibly removed."

Tony grimaced, trying to ignore the growling of his stomach. What fate had taken the woman was tragic, but he couldn't see how she was connected to Ari. Neither could Gibbs.

"How did you connect her to Ari? Even if she was working for him against her will he could have forced her to eat, there was no need for an I.V."

Fornell handed Gibbs a thick manila folder. Sacks sighed dramatically but explained out loud while Gibbs read.

"Her name is Erin Kendall, she was twenty-five years old last May. She was declared missing two and a half years ago." Tony raised an eyebrow, urging the other man to get to the point. Sacks smiled, clearly pleased to have the upper hand for once.

"Erin Kendall was a registered 2nd degree _Technopath_."

Tony turned to Gibbs. The older man was holding the file close to his face, squinting at the letters. It took a moment for him to come back to his senses and keep the comments on his tongue from slipping out. Then he realized the ramifications of what Gibbs had said.

"She was a 2nd degree _Technopath_? Does that mean what Batchick was saying last night is true? Ari really does have trouble controlling certain Gifts?"

Jaws dropped throughout the room. Fornell was the first to recover. He strode quickly across the room, grabbing the file from Gibbs' hands when the man didn't pay him any attention.

"What is DiNutzo talking about? Did your vigilante say something to you last night? If that is true this could be the leverage we need to take that bastard down!"

Gibbs glared and snatched the folder back but held it to his side to read over later.

"We got a tip that the vigilantes were going to ambush Sal and Little Ricky at DWB. We sent you two too pick up the would be thieves and set up a reverse ambush." Gibbs stopped. Turning slightly he stared hard at Jimmy, who stood on the far side of the examination table watching them with wide eyes.

Ducky cleared his throat loudly, waving his assistant away.

"If you don't mind Mr. Palmer, I believe that the van needs a little reorganizing. Would you mind going to take care of that?"

Jimmy nodded quickly, glasses bouncing slightly on his nose as be backed quickly out of the room. Gibbs waited until the doors were firmly shut to continue.

"I've had my suspicions about Ari and that woman for awhile. There was no way that Ari wasn't on Mossad's radar, I would bet my boat that woman is Israeli. That means Mossad lied to us. Ari is one of their messes and they've sent her here to clean it up." Fornell and Sacks didn't appear to be shocked. Obviously the idea that the foreign nation hadn't been honest had occurred to them as well.

"We managed to trap them inside the building and catch them by surprise." That shocked the police detectives. The force had only managed to corner the woman once, back when she first appeared and didn't know the city. She had escaped when her tech support cut off the power to the building. They hadn't even gotten close to the two since. That Gibbs and DiNozzo **had** spoke volumes.

"I wanted to bring the boy in, had him cornered. But the woman had gotten away from Tony. She put me down, knocked the air right out of me for a few moments. Long enough for the two of them to get away."

"That's something we need to discuss. The beat cops must have misheard DiNozzo. Their reports said that the two of them _jumped_ off the building to evade arrest. Since neither of them are street pizza I'm going to have to assume they somehow survived."

Tony smiled sheepishly at Fornell's hard stare. Laughing he rubbed the back of his head in a nervous gesture.

"Yeah…I was pretty short with those Officers. It was just so late and I was pretty tired. Just wanted to get it over with ya know?" Three pairs of eyes stared at him, none of them the least bit sympathetic. "I left out a couple of details. They did jump…but onto the building to the North."

Fornell whistled with appreciation. You would never catch him trying that jump! Not even if he was in the prime of his youth. Sacks merely nodded. The woman had shown some skill with parkour on some of her other escapes.

"Batchick made the jump okay. I made it to the wall just in time to see her land. The Boy Wonder wasn't so lucky. He went to tuck and roll and landed on his face. He was limping pretty heavily too. If his ankle isn't broken he'll be extremely lucky. Either way he won't be playing a part in any nighttime shenanigans anytime soon."

Gibbs and Fornell exchanged exasperated looks.

"DiNutzo if that boy is really a 1st degree _Technopath_ it won't matter if he's laid up in bed. All that woman has to do is connect a computer in someones network to the internet and he can have access to it from anywhere in the world."

Tony looked mildly shocked.

"Then what the hell is she doing bringing him into the field?"

-_NCIS_-

As usual, Abby Sciuto's lab was blaring with music. The forensic scientist herself was bouncing in front of one of her computer terminals, long black pigtails swaying back and forth in time to the music. Too busy watching as she ran a fingerprint through the registry and unable to hear she didn't notice Gibbs and Tony until they were both breathing down her neck to peer at the fingerprint on the screen.

Feeling the breath on her skin Abby jumped-startled, grabbing for one of her colorful figurines as she whipped around. Tony laughed, pointing an accusing finger at Gibbs whose attention was still captivated by the fingerprint.

"Gibbs! Tony! It's been way too long since I've seen you last!" Throwing herself forward the Goth woman gave each man a huge hug, squeezing them tightly. Tony snaked his arms around her waist, holding her still when she went to pull away. Laughing she smacked him playfully on the chest till he let her go. Not taking his eyes off the screen Gibbs' hand shot out, cuffing Tony about the head as Abby laughed.

"Are you guys here because of my fingerprint? Or do you have something else for me?"

Gibbs tapped the screen, quickly pulling his finger away when she swatted at it.

"Whose fingerprint are you running?"

Abby smiled deviously.

"The CSI guys think this print might be from your boy! If he's as good as they're saying he is I won't get a match. But it's better to be safe than sorry." She turned suddenly, pigtails whipping violently. "Is it true? Everyone in the station has been saying that this guy is probably a 1st degree _Technopath_! Is it true Gibbs?"

He couldn't decide which emotion was more evident in her voice; excitement, interest, or jealousy. Tony poked at one of the machines whirring in the background.

"We were going to ask you that question. Don't you _Technopath's_ all keep track of each other?"

She sighed with exasperation as she slapped his hand away from her baby.

"That's only the registered_ Technopath's_. There are no registered 1st degree _Technopath's_ in the United States." A thoughtful look crossed her face. "Of course he could have gotten registered as a 2nd degree. If he really is a 1st degree he might have some way to beat the test."

Filled with new inspiration Abby ran to an empty terminal, pulling up the records for all registered 2nd degree _Technopath's_ in the states of Virginia and Maryland.

"You guys need to get me a picture of this guy! If he did register as a 2nd degree I can find a picture and compare the two. Even if he's wearing a mask I can compare height, jaw lines and a bunch of other stuff!"

"Well then Miss. Sciuto today is your lucky day!" Tony's hand appeared over her shoulder, waving an SD memory card. "We will give it to you on one condition! You have to run facial recognition on the woman first. Gibbs thinks she's a clean up agent from Mossad."

Abby nodded eyes wide and full of glee as she took the memory card. She held it gently for a moment exerting her own Gift to view the pictures. Her smile widened.

"These pictures are great Tony! It's a shame you went into law enforcement, you'd have made a killing as a photographer."

Quickly she put the card into the computer and pulled up a good shot of the woman. Every immigrant entering the United States was recorded these days on some form of media. With a few clicks Abby had the photo running against a database of recent immigrants from the Middle East.

"Well, GSM is taking amateur submissions. I think you'd look great in this little black negligee I saw in-"

He was silenced as Gibbs slapped him again.

"Then again they probably get so many submissions that they just throw the best of them away. Best stick to crime scene and steak-out shots."

Dark colored lips quirked up into a smirk Abby turned to retort when all of the computers in the room began beeping loudly. Warning signs flashing across the screens. Green eyes wide with horror Abby grabbed her keyboard. Expanding her Gift she threw herself into the network, tracking the hacker that had already managed to bypass all of her firewalls.

"No, no, no! This can't be happening!"

One by one each monitor flickered then settled on the blue screen of death. Each reading 'No Data.'

"Gibbs!" Abby threw herself into the older mans arms sobbing. "He killed them! My babies, that jerk erased them completely!"

It took both men to peel Abby off Gibbs' chest. Once she finally calmed down she explained.

"There's no doubt about it. Your boy's a 1st degree. He breezed through my firewalls like they were nothing and he managed to wipe _everything_ in just a couple of seconds. Without leaving a single trace!" She sniffled, wiping her nose on Tony's sleeve. "Not to brag or anything but my firewalls are hot stuff. I'm a 2nd degree and I've had other 2nd degrees try to break through them. It took three people all trying at the same time."

She stepped back, wiping her eyes and smearing her heavy eyeliner. With determination she turned to fix her computers. Not looking at either of them she tried to contain the warring emotions she felt.

"You catch him Gibbs! And when you do I wanna see him. Though whether I'm gonna kill him or kiss him I have yet to decide.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

_The Night Before_

"Just a few more steps Tim."

"Ziva, Ziva! I can make it by myself. I appreciate your help but really I'm fine-"

Tim's assurances were cut off by a muffled whimper of pain as he attempted to put weight on his ankle. Together they paused, halfway up the stairs to Ziva's apartment. Tightening her grip around his waist Ziva tried to convince Tim that she could support his weight.

"Tim please, lean on me. The sooner you do that the faster you can lie down and I can check your ankle."

Sighing Tim did as she asked and the two hobbled the final few steps. Reaching the landing Ziva allowed Tim to lean against the wall as she dug her keys out of an interior pocket of her jacket.

The two had taken off their masks as soon as they gotten down to the street. Together they had stumbled to the car Ziva had stashed for their getaway earlier that day. It had been a harrowing trip, Ziva attempting to keep Tim upright while he kept an eye out for Gibbs and DiNozzo.

The pain in his ankle was a constant worry. Gibbs had seen them jump, DiNozzo had surely seen his less than stellar landing. Surely they would be asking hospitals for men fitting his description admitted with broken ankles. If the ankle was broken he was in trouble. There was no doubt in his mind that Ziva would be able to set it correctly, but they would still need to get a cast.

The door swung open and Tim hobbled inside with a groan of relief. After locking the door Ziva quickly took up her position at his side.

"Can you drive me home after you've gotten changed? I don't trust myself behind the wheel. Damn it!"

Surprised Ziva tightened her grip. Looking at his face though she saw his expression was not one of pain but irritation.

"What is the matter?"

"Sarah." Tim sighed as they hobbled across the room. Ziva eyed the furniture prospectively, he could not lay comfortably on any of them and still raise his ankle. Subtlety she angled them towards her bed.

"Sarah had a fight with her room mate, she's staying at my apartment until the two of them make up." Tim didn't seem to notice as Ziva lowered him onto her bed. He laid back, wincing as she propped up his ankle with a couple of pillows.

"I can't let her see me like this. She'd ask questions and I can't lie to her. She's already going to be suspicious of me if the papers ever get details about the 'vigilantes.' If they publish that one of them is a 1st degree Technopath she will flip out on me. Then she'll call Penny."

Groaning he threw an arm over his eyes and Ziva used the moment to quickly pick up the bras and underwear thrown on the bed.

"I don't know what would be worse; Penny scolding me or Penny praising me. It's just for the best that neither of them know."

"Then you will simply stay here tonight. I will send Sarah a text message saying you fell asleep after taking inventory. It will be good for you." She gave him a wicked smile. "She will think we are sleeping together."

Tim chuckled.

"She already thinks we're sleeping together. She calls you my 'creepy hot stalker girlfriend.'" Tim looked around the large apartment. "So where am I going to sleep?"

Ziva grinned.

"On the bed of course! We cannot support your ankle in any of the chairs."

Tim eyed her suspiciously.

"Then where are you going to sleep?"

"Why, on my bed of course. It is plenty big enough for both of us."

Tim quickly sat back up, swinging his good leg over the edge of the bed as he fought to rise to his feet.

"Never mind Ziva. I'm gonna just head home anyway. I'll see you in the morning."

Ziva frowned, pushing him back onto the bed with hardly any effort.

"Nonsense McGee. You would probably crash your car before getting halfway home." With an inward smile she put on a pouty expression. "Why do you not want to sleep with me McGee? Is it because I am a woman?"

"Yes it's because you're a woman!" Tim was flushed and not meeting her eyes. "Everyone I've ever been attracted to before Gibbs was a woman and." Here he stumbled over his words, looking down at the sheets. "And, I'm still a guy Ziva."

"That is fine Tim. I will be downstairs long before you wake up and need to deal with any…issues that might have _arisen_ over night."

Groaning Tim dragged a pillow over his head. Laughing Ziva stretched out beside him, wrapping an arm around his waist. When he didn't shove her away she rested her head on his shoulder.

"It will be fun Tim. I've been told that I am an excellent bedmate and cuddler."

Three hours later and the loud snores beside him were keeping Tim awake. He laid on his back, staring at the ceiling unable to roll onto his side because of his ankle. Mumbling Ziva turned, taking the majority of the covers with her. Tim resisted the urge to yank them back.

'Excellent bedmate and cuddler my ass,' he thought.

Again she tossed in her sleep, turning in bed to face him. Her face was a mask of sorrow. Concerned he reached over to shake her awake. Hearing her voice he paused, hand poised over her shoulder.

"Papa…Tali…"

Again she turned, still mumbling quietly in her sleep. Tim felt his earlier irritation melting away. He remembered what had happened to her father and younger sister. There had been a small side note in her Mossad dossier. It was no wonder she dreamt about them. But would she want him to wake her? Another mumble drew his shocked attention, it had almost sounded like a whimper.

"Ari…please…"

Lightly he touched her shoulder, shaking it slightly.

"Ziva, wake up. You're snoring too loud for me to sleep."

Too quickly for Tim to see Ziva turned again, drawing a gun from underneath her pillow. Tim felt the barrel pressing tightly underneath his jaw. Eyes wide he fought to stay completely still. Ziva blinked at him sleepily, not entirely awake.

"Wha' was that? Tim?"

She pulled back the gun, placing it back under the pillow. Tim shook his head, speaking low in a tone he hoped was soothing.

"Nothing, everything is fine Ziva. Why don't you go back to sleep?"

Nodding Ziva rolled back over and soon, was snoring away. Exhaling for what felt like the first time in an eternity Tim looked back towards the ceiling and tried to force himself to sleep.

True to her word, Ziva was gone by the time Tim woke the next morning. Blinking away the sleep from his eyes he saw that his friend had the forethought to prop a crutch beside the bed. Looking at his ankle he was that it had been tightly wrapped. That was good. If it had been broken Ziva would have woken him. They would have had to drive out of the district to find a hospital to put a cast on it.

To his great relief the only morning issue he found himself needing to deal with was nature's call. Using the crutch with his ankle wrapped he was able to quickly make it to the bathroom and then to the couch.

Dropping his head into his hands Tim sighed heavily. So many things needed to be done today. He needed to call Sarah, check that she and his dog, Jethro, had managed to make it through the night in one piece. He needed to browse the news networks, double check that no one had managed to get the drop on him and snap a picture. His one true fear with reporters would be that one would get the clever idea to use film. Digital camera's he could wipe. Anything on a computer was fair game. But against film he was powerless.

And also, he would need to hack into the police network. Tony and Gibbs had been waiting for them. That meant they had probably gotten a picture, probably quite a few pictures. He also had to wipe out any fingerprints they might have found.

Heaving another sigh Tim looked around the apartment. So much to do; so very little technology up here to do it with.

Ziva made a point to keep her apartment technology free. Even her alarm clock had to be wound every night. Nightly her cellphone was left to charge on the counter downstairs. Tim fought back to his feet and limped to the door. Locking it behind him he eyed the stairs wearily before starting down.

After navigating the stair and the storage room Tim finally emerged into the main room of the store. He paused, leaning against the door to catch his breath as he used his free hand to wipe the dust he had knocked off the storage shelves out of his eyes.

There were a few customers milling around the store. With smiles they wished him well as he limped past. Ziva sat behind the counter, watching him above the magazine she held. She nodded into his office, towards the mini-fridge in the corner, when he was close enough and said.

"I bought you a sandwich for lunch. There is a drink for you as well."

Tim thanked her but ignored the fridge as he entered his office. He collapsed into his chair with a smile and booted up his desktop with a smile. Ziva leaned against the door jam, watching as he hooked his crutch around a wheeled cart and pulled it close. Two laptops sat on the cart, with a touch he turned them on as well.

"Sarah called this morning. She asked to speak with you but I informed her that you were not yet awake." He didn't like the way she was smiling. "I like your sister. She complimented me on wearing you out so thoroughly."

He groaned.

"Please tell me you did not make up a sex story to tell my baby sister!"

"I told her that she was under the wrong impression and she laughed at me. Asked for you to call her when you woke from your 'sex coma' I believe she called it."

With a curse he rubbed at his temples. It wouldn't be Anti-Gifted sympathizers that killed him. Nor disease or Gibbs. It would be his little sister and probably his best friend.

"I'll call her later. I've got a little business to deal with after last night."

Ziva nodded, checking to make sure no customers within hearing distance.

"Detective DiNozzo was here this morning. Apparently you owe Detective Gibbs a free repair. He asked where you were. I informed him that you had food poisoning."

Tim looked up in shock.

"What! He couldn't have broken it already, I just gave it back to him yesterday!"

Ziva eyed him curiously.

"What does it matter? You enjoy working on Detective Gibbs' computer do you not?"

"Yes, but when he has to keep bringing it in for repairs it seems like I'm doing shoddy work. Eventually he'll probably tell Tony to take it somewhere else. Or the other customers will find out and go somewhere else." He frowned. "It's almost like he's breaking it on purpose."

From the corner of his eye it looked like Ziva was smiling. But when he looked up her face was serious.

"Tim, I know that it is fun and exciting sometimes to be chased." The change of subject blindsided Tim. He felt his face turning red. Of course she had noticed that. "But you must know that you cannot allow him to catch you. It will only end with you in handcuffs." She paused then corrected herself. "In jail; or worse."

He raised an eyebrow toward her and she stepped into the office, closing the door behind her.

"Malachi called me this morning. Apparently word has gotten around that there is a 1st degree _Technopath_ living in Washington D.C. He said that his contacts had sighted Agents from the CIA hanging around scenes where we had been spotted."

Tim felt the floor drop out from beneath his feet.

"You think that if I was found the CIA would just take me? But, I'm an American citizen. They can't do that!"

Ziva shook her head sadly.

"They can and you know it. They will simply make you disappear. But that is only if the CIA gets a hold of you first. The FBI seems interested in you as well."

He heard the tone in her voice and despite the sudden fear he smiled at her.

"Just the FBI?"

"I will admit, the Director of Mossad has expressed his interest in obtaining your talents. If the CIA does come after you, you should know that you would have a safe place waiting for you in Israel. They are prepared to offer you a citizenship if you agree to work for Mossad."

Shock was written all over Tim's face. With a final smile Ziva wished him happy hunting and left the office, closing the door behind her. Tim watched her for a long while afterwards. Trying to gauge the sincerity in the offer. It had seemed like ages since Ziva had lied to him, even though they had only really known each other for a few months. Finally he decided it wasn't Ziva's sincerity he should question. Though they had only known each other a short time their friendship was strong and real. The motives he needed to question were those of her superiors.

He watched her deal with customers as his computers connected to the Internet. Such a short time in the long run of things. But they had come so far together.

-_NCIS_-

_The Christmas decorations strung along the streets were brightly lit by the time Tim closed up shop for the day. He flipped the sign over to CLOSED and shut off the electric sign hanging in the window. Retreating to his office he sighed at the stack of paperwork and bills covering his desk._

_Who knew being a storeowner dealt with so much paperwork?_

_At the place of honor on the desk was an older model laptop. The edges were scuffed from years of use. Tim felt his gut wrench at the sight of it. Usually he would have been overjoyed to have it in his shop. But this was the first time he had seen it since…Kate had been murdered. Officer DiNozzo, but then it was Detective DiNozzo now wasn't it? DiNozzo had brought it in that morning. Neither man had said much to the other, the absence of Kate was felt deeply by them both._

_Sitting heavily in his chair Tim brushed a finger over the scuffs to the casing._

_No more would Kate come into the store, asking if he could fix her broken PDA. No more would she stop by to browse the computers for sale. Never again would she watch as he repaired something, telling him about the time she and her partner, Detective Gibbs, did 'this' or the time they did 'that.' They would never laugh together over the things DiNozzo did to get assigned to be liason between the police agency and them._

_Those stories were over now. He couldn't imagine DiNozzo taking the time to tell him stories._

_It was so hard to believe that she was dead. Tim hadn't even been able to attend her funeral. He wasn't really her friend, just a lonely shopkeeper she had taken pity on._

_With a sigh Tim decided it was for the best to call it a night. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve. Sarah was already on his case; trying to making him come home and spend the holiday with their parents. Tim planned to avoid that landmine by spending the next two days under a heavy workload to accommodate after Christmas shopping. Truthfully his shop never got too busy during the main shopping seasons, but his parents didn't know that._

_Penny did however. He was sure that she would make an appearance sometime in the next two days to drag him along to whatever function she was supporting this season. Hopefully they wouldn't have to flee arrest this time. Last year Penny had been only too happy to get arrested with her friends, until Tim's insistence that he did not want the authorities to have a paper record of his fingerprints got her moving._

_Tim stood, collecting the trash from his office before leaving his office. With the brush of a finger he shut down all the computers in the store. He flicked off the light switch manually before entering the storage room and making his way to the exit._

_The night air was frigid as he stepped outside. It stole his breath for an instant and he regretted not wearing a warmer coat. Despite the freezing temperature there was little to no snow or ice on the ground. After locking the door securely behind him Tim ran to the dumpster behind his store. Quickly he tossed the bag of trash inside and ran for his car._

_Shaking fingers pulled the keys from his pocket and, not for the first time, Tim wished he had the money to buy a new car. One with remote locks. He cursed violently when the keys slipped through his fingers and he bent to pick them up. The loud thud of something striking the side of his car startled him._

_He looked up into a pair of wide brown eyes. The woman looked startled as well. But quickly the emotion vanished, replaced with wild fury. Again she reached for him. Tim scrambled away on all fours. For an instant he considered calling for help. But in this back alley no one would hear him. His shop was surrounded by other businesses, that had closed much earlier than his for the holiday._

_A hand closed on the hood of his coat and hauled him backwards. Choking slightly from the coat pulled tight against his throat Tim was brought face to face with the woman. She was pissed! Violently she slammed him against his car, silencing his cry of pain with a hand over his mouth._

_What the hell was her problem?_

_"Where is he? Where is Ari?"_

_For a moment Tim was confused. Ari? He didn't know anyone named Ari. But then his mind jumped to the police report he had hacked and read. Ari Hasewari was the man that had killed Kate, had gunned her down in broad daylight._

_"You are a **Technopath**! Ari has recruited you has he not? What is he paying you? Or is he threatening you and your family? Where is he?"_

_Tim felt rage of his own bubbling towards the surface. It didn't even occur to him that this woman knew his greatest secret._

_"Ari Hasewari? I have no idea where that bastard is. But if I did I'd have but a bullet between his eyes a long time ago!" Tim violently pushed the woman's hands away. "I would never work for that man! I would kill myself first!"_

_The woman watched him, as if she could read the truth on his face. After a moment she knelt and picked up his car keys. She tossed them to him with a warning._

_"If you do not know Ari now you might come to his attention in the future. My advice is to stay far away from him."_

_The keys slipped through Tim's cold fingers. Instinctively he leaned over to pick them up. By the time he stood the woman had already disappeared._

_He caught sight of her several times in the weeks following that night. Eventually even Sarah picked up on her presence._

_"Tim…I don't want to alarm you or anything. And I might be wrong but there seems to be a hot babe stalking you."_

_Tim rolled his eyes as his little sister entered his apartment. Jethro bounded towards her, barking excitedly. Sarah knelt to scratch him behind the ears._

_"Seriously Tim! She's been parked out there the last two times I've visited you this week. It has to be you she's watching. All the other residents in this complex are little old ladies and she doesn't seem to be 'that' kind of woman."_

_Laughing Tim grabbed Jethro's leash from the hanger on the wall. He whistled for the dog as he passed his sister in the doorway. She watched him with confusion as he attached the leash to the dogs collar._

_"Where are you going? Should you leave the house while she's out there? She could sneak in and steal your underwear or something."_

_"I'm going to go talk to her."_

_Sarah grabbed his arm as he made to close the door._

_"Tim that's a bad idea! In those safety classes you made me go to they always said you should never engage a stalker."_

_"She isn't a stalker Sarah. I've got a pretty good idea what she's up too. No I'm not going to tell you. She's got a good reason, I think. I'm just going to make it a little easier for her."_

_The woman rolled down the window of her car as he approached. She was smiling. Jethro poked his nose towards the open window and she offered her hand for a sniff._

_"You aren't being very stealthy. My little sister thinks you want to break into my apartment and steal my underwear."_

_She laughed._

_"Was she the long haired brunette? I wondered why she was giving me the evil eye."_

_Tim leaned against the car and looked up to his window. Sarah's nose was pressed against the glass, phone clenched in her hand. Most likely ready to call 911 if she felt the need._

_"Are you waiting for **him** to find me?" She did not deny it. "You might be waiting a long time. So far I've done a pretty good job hiding my gift. How did you know if you don't mind my asking?"_

_"I've been very well trained."_

_Tim nodded._

_"My store has an apartment space above it. I never had much use for it. I'm under contract here till the end of time it seems like. I spent the last week cleaning it up. If you don't have a place to stay you can move in. You have to help me in the store as payment though."_

_The woman cocked an eyebrow at him._

_"Surely you know better than to offer something to a complete stranger."_

_Now it was his turn for a big reveal._

_"Ziva David-Hadar. Birthday November 12, 1982. Your father was Eli David, former Deputy Director of Mossad. You were adopted by his bodyguard Amit Hadar; after your father and little sister were murdered by your older brother, Ari."_

_Ziva looked stunned. Tim couldn't resist the smile that crept across his face. Getting the information hadn't been easy. But it had been fun._

_"You are not an official member of Mossad, but you have had all the training. You have also had extra training in recognizing Gifts and dealing with them."_

_"You have read my dossier! How is that possible? Those files are protected twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week by a team of 2nd degree **Technopath's**. You could not have gotten past them all!"_

_"They did seem to have me cornered for a little while. On one hand I was leading the Mossad **Technopath's** on a wild goose chase through China. All while the other hand snuck behind the firewall and downloaded your dossier. Dual screening like that isn't easy, you've got to pay a lot of attention to everything that's happening. But I've never found a 2nd degree that can see the network as clearly as I can. And I've always been pretty good at multi-tasking."_

-_NCIS_-

The beeping monitors and the pain in his ankle brought Tim back to the present. He winced. It would be a good idea to finish this up without any more distractions and get some ice. Tim turned his attention back to the computers. All were online, all were safely protected by firewalls of his own design. Taking a deep breath Tim reached out. He laid his right pinky and index finger on the smallest of the laptops. His thumb and index finger stretched over to the other. He rested his dominant hand on the keyboard of his desktop and closed his eyes.

For a moment all he could see was the darkness behind his eyelids. Then he reached out with his gift and the network lit up brightly in his mind. Hitching a ride on one of the millions lines of code speeding around the wireless world he accessed a highly protected system.

The initial firewalls were pretty simple to get past. While they were flashy it required almost no effort at all to bypass them. Once all three of his computers were through he moved in on the firewalls set by Abigail Sciuto. For a moment he paused to marvel them. In his vision they reflected their creator.

A dark appearance, but a playful nature. Several times he had sat back and watched lesser hackers try to access her system. The places those firewalls threw them and the viruses they unknowingly carried home were hilarious.

Tim had accessed this system a few times before in the recent past. The investigation into Kate's death had been the first time. After he joined Ziva in the field he had accessed it more regularly to ensure the police didn't have anything to identify them with.

Plus, getting into this system was actually fun!

For a 2nd degree _Technopath_ Miss. Sciuto was powerful and she clearly knew her how to make her computers sit up and beg. Leaving the laptops to keep the firewalls busy Tim focused on his desktop as it slipped into her system.

She always had something interesting running. Sometimes he would access her web cam, just to see what was happening in her lab.

Today she was running his prints…again. It didn't appear like anything else she was up too had anything to do with Ziva and himself. He prepared to divert the search, give it an incorrect set of results. Maybe that creepy birthday clown who lived two streets over. He could sit at the coffee shop across the street and watch as they brought him in. Tim was almost positive the man was a pedophile. A police investigation would probably uncover that.

Just then something new came into the network. He paused. New files were added to the system. She began running them through a facial recognition program. He could feel Miss. Sciuto enter the network, uncertain of just how clear her vision was, he was careful to stay out of her line of sight as he crept up to get a closer look.

Damn! He rearranged his plans. The laptops were brought back to the forefront of his mind.

She was running Ziva's picture against immigrants from the Middle East! He pushed on the other presence, shoving Miss. Sciuto out of her own network and quickly copying the files.

With a heavy heart he rammed the firewalls. They shook but bravely held their ground. Tim frowned, she was such a good programmer; had no doubt spent a lot of love and time on these. It hurt him to do it but there was no other choice. Another ram and the firewalls came crashing down. It only took an instant for Tim to upload a virus and retreat, erasing his trail behind him.

Reaching his home system Tim secured his own firewalls, setting up a secondary and third set just in case. He exited the network, gasping in a deep breath of air. Too much time in the network. He coughed violently and moaned at the pain in his ankle. He definitely needed to ice it now.

He looked at the files he had copied. Pictures of Ziva, pictures of himself.

Gibbs had been there in her lab. Gibbs had given her these pictures. They were from Gibbs' memory card.

That memory card wouldn't survive the virus.

"He's going to be with pissed with me."

Tim couldn't decide if he was terrified of that prospect; or if he was pleased that Gibbs would be thinking about him.

This obsession definitely wasn't healthy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

A month out of the field. Tim held his breath, gently testing his weight on the injured ankle. Ziva had determined that it wasn't likely a bad break, although medical care had been necessary. The day after Tim's less than graceful flight to freedom the two had driven up to a discreet clinic in Baltimore to have x-ray's done and received a walking cast for their trouble. Now just over a month later, it was gone.

Feeling better than he had in a long time Tim put his entire weight on the ankle. He winced at the flare of pain that blossomed from the joint. But still, it was better than the harsh ache from the first week.

A cold nose nudged at his hand and he smiled at Jethro before scratching him vigorously behind the ears. The two made an interesting sight as they walked slowly down the stairs of Tim's apartment complex. One limping along, taking the stairs one step at a time while the dog patiently kept pace with his slow human. After Jethro finished his business they climbed back up the stairs at the same snails pace.

Tim went about his morning routine as the dog wolfed down his breakfast. The sun was just beginning to rise above horizon when he climbed down the stairs for the final time that morning and made his way to his car. The streets were mostly quiet, every now and then he would pass a family on their way to church. He made it to the shop in good time and let himself in through the back door.

The shop might not be open on Sunday, but that didn't mean that there wasn't work to do.

Ziva was out for her morning run so Tim avoided another flight of stairs and instead headed towards his office. There was a small backlog of computers on the shelf in the corner for repairs, but Tim ignored them completely. Flopping into his desk chair he booted up his desktop and set to work screening the night's messages.

Something had changed in Ari's organization.

Two months ago Tim had to work hard to gain access to their cell phone records. He'd had a _Technopath_ guarding them seemingly night and day. They couldn't have been more than a 2nd degree, but had made up for it with sheer cleverness. But now it seemed that _Technopath_ was gone and while Tim rejoiced at his new ease of access; he worried about what had happened to them.

It was possible that whoever it had been had worked with Ari voluntarily. If that was the case he had no reason to mourn them. But something in the way they programmed told him that wasn't the case. They had safeguarded the records, with clever traps and firewalls. But nothing they had ever done had harmed Tim's system.

Also they had always left a back door open. Not something that just any old hacker could stumble across. A back door that could only be found by a _Technopath_ that could clearly see the network. Whoever they had been seemed to be just on the cusp between the 2nd and 1st degrees.

But they were gone now and the entire organization's records were fair game to anyone brave enough to look them up. But Ari was aware of that. Every message now was sent in code, something he had no doubt developed himself. Ziva and Tim were both working to translate it but it was a time consuming task.

The second monumental task to fall on Tim's shoulders was to determine just who was actually a part of Ari's organization. Cell phones were registered under aliases, bought with untraceable refillable Visa cards. Suppliers purchased the cards and phones at gas stations and retail stores delivering them directly to Ari's right hand man to distribute to the organization.

In the month off his feet Tim had been able to connect only five men to the organization. For someone used to his Gift giving him instant gratification on all technical matters being stumped by cell phones was a hard blow to Tim's ego. But Ziva assured him that he was doing the best he could.

Ari had been trained how to stay under a _Technopath's_ radar.

But it stilled irked him. It felt like a slap to the face.

Tim didn't expand his Gift, choosing instead to hack the records the 'old fashioned way'. He sat up with excitement as the records loaded. There had been a lot of activity last night. Message after message sent out to multiple phones. He quickly copied the coded messages onto his own system and sent them to the printer.

All five of his confirmed crooks had been included in the messaging. Jimmy Napolitano, father or Ricky, had received two messages but only replied to the first. Ian Hitch, nicknamed Bulldog and owner of the Club Teaz, had received a total of seven messages and had replied to them all before sending five messages of his own to five other numbers. Tim made a record of the numbers, to run them at a later date.

René Benoit had been sent ten messages. He had replied to none and sent none. Jeffery White, one of Ari's known suppliers, had been sent two messages. Both of which he had replied too. Ari's right hand man, Saleem Ulman, had sent out all of the original messages.

Tim quickly shut down the system and looked over the stack of papers. Either something had happened last night or something was set to happen soon.

Tim heard the door swing open in the back. For a moment he tensed, staring out of his open office door. He'd set up everything so he couldn't be traced, surely no one in Ari's organization could have traced him. But then he remembered Ziva's warning the month prior and clenched his fists tightly.

For an instant he wished he had a weapon of some sort. But Ziva insisted that owning a gun or a knife was practically useless since he didn't know how to efficiently use either. That he was more likely to injure himself than an assailant.

For a moment the tension was almost tangible in the air. Tim sat stiffly in his chair, eyes locked on the door. Then Ziva entered and he slumped in his chair with a long drawn out sigh.

"Ziva, you scared the crap out of me!"

"Who else did you expect to walk in through the back door?"

Tim shook his head, motioning towards the stack of papers on the desk.

"I don't know, I was looking through Ari's phone records earlier. Thought maybe someone had traced me here."

"Do not worry so much," she said, stepping forward to snatch up the papers and flip through them eagerly. "I have had all of the Mossad _Technopath's_ attempt to trace you and none of them could."

Tim brightened slightly at that.

"Oh really?"

Ziva smiled at him over the papers.

"Yes. Now, have you been practicing what I taught you last week?"

Sighing Tim stood.

"I have, though I don't really understand why I need to _learn_ to breathe. Or what yoga has to do with fighting."

Ziva followed him out of his office then through the storage room towards the stairs.

"You are not learning to breathe. You are learning to breathe _right_. A runner or a fighter needs to be able to keep his breath, not be quickly winded. You must be taught how to breathe right before you can be taught to fight."

She was still flipping through the stack of papers as then climbed they stairs. She either didn't notice how slow Tim was going or she simply didn't mind following the slow pace.

"And the yoga?"

"Yoga is good for building strength, as well as improving balance and agility. It will be good for you. I do not want to begin teaching you something more dangerous until your ankle is completely healed."

When they reached the landing Tim stood to the side, allowing Ziva to step forward to unlock the door. It creaked loudly as it swung open, something it hadn't done until Ziva moved in. After flicking on the light switch Ziva motioned him towards the practice mats. Tim limped over and began his warm up stretches.

"So what happened last night? You told me to head home before you got back in, I was worried."

Ziva shot him a smile, looking away from the papers for the first time since she had gotten them.

"It wasn't anything to worry about. As I was scouting around Club Teaz I heard someone trying the back door."

Tim nodded.

"So that's why you asked me to loop the camera?"

"Yes, one of Hitch's girls was trying to make a run for it. I do not think she expected me to be in that alleyway, but you can never be certain. When I said I would help her she begged me to take her home. When I said I would not do that she requested to be taken to Detective Gibbs."

Tim frowned, sitting on the mats to touch his toes.

"Was she a set up? With his gift Hitch can follow those girls he owns anywhere in the world."

"Her terror seemed genuine. Either way I escorted her to the police station. I waited outside to see if she would flee or if Hitch would come to pick her up. After two hours neither happened so I left."

Tim laid back on the mats, stretching his arms out over his head as dread burned at his gut.

"So, either she really worked up the courage to run and wanted the best to protect her. Or…"

He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. Ziva sat the papers down on her table then joined him on the mat. Together they lay on their backs, staring at the ceiling in silence until Ziva finished what Tim hadn't been able to say.

"Or Ari is becoming more aware of our activities against him and the activities of Detective Gibbs. He has set his dogs upon us all."

Tim shuddered slightly, recalling to mind all the police reports, all the death Ari had caused. In the forefront of his mind was the final picture of Kate, taken just before her autopsy, with a bullet hole in her forehead. He felt Ziva's hand reach out and he gladly took it. She shocked him when she rolled to her feet, pulling her up with him.

"No more talking! You should be practicing!" -_NCIS_-

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was awake before the sun began to filter in through his large living room window. He sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the sofa as he pushed the blankets away. Rubbing slowly at his face Gibbs stood, slowly making his way to the kitchen. He got the coffeepot going then leaned against the counter with a frown.

Some odd dreams last night.

Already the details were slipping away from him, but some stuck around. It seemed his eyes were always starting the same way these days. With a pair of surprised green eyes starin' at him. Wasn't much unusual about that in itself. He dreamed about Shannon all the time. But something in his gut made him believe these eyes weren't his wife's. After that though the dreams got a little hazy. Tony and Kate. Kate falling over as Ari's bullet entered her skull. All of them rooted to the ground, unable to move. He saw Tony take a bullet as well. Then the mysterious eyes were back, clouding over in death.

Gibbs growled, low under his breath, and kicked the bottom cabinet violently. His gut was churning. Something was about to happen…or already had.

The beeping of the coffeepot brought him from his reverie and he chuckled as he poured himself a mug. His gut. The undiscovered Gift Abby liked to call it. He sat at the kitchen table, sipping the scalding drink as he tried to interpret the feeling and the dream.

Tony had green eyes. Abby also. Could it have been either of them that he saw? No, he decided. Just like he always recognized Shannon in his dreams, he usual recognized Tony and Abby as well. This was someone else.

It wasn't until he was in the shower getting ready for the day when recognition finally struck. He didn't recognize the face because he'd never seen the whole face! Just those big green eyes.

That vigilante. The _Technopath_.

It had been just over a month since Gibbs had seen him last. Tony had said the kid had probably injured himself in his foolhardy escape. Turning his face up towards the spray Gibbs let the water rinse away the soap suds.

Why was he dreamin' about that kid almost every night? Watching his eyes go dark and lifeless. Why did he wake up, short of breath and just short of terrified? How come sometimes instead of going dark those same eyes lit up, like a fire, and he could see that cocksure smile he'd been given in the stairwell?

He turned the water off, grabbing a towel as he stepped out of the shower. It wasn't of any use dwelling on it. The Israeli woman had seemed to get some sense. She hadn't brought her boy out with her since he'd almost gotten captured at DWB.

Besides, he had work he needed to do.

Almost an hour later Gibbs unlocked the door to his office, a fresh coffee from the diner and an order of steak and eggs in hand. Tony wasn't in yet, no surprise there, so he ate his breakfast as he watched ZNN news reports on the television Tony had insisted on placing in the corner. After his food was gone he sat back in his chair and checked the time. 0900. Muting the TV Gibbs picked up the phone and dialed.

_"Yeah, Pacci here."_

"Hey Pacci. You busy?"

_"Gibbs? Is that you? What are you up too? I hear you opened a Private Detective office."_

"Yeah I did. I'm working a case right now, need help with an ID if you've got the time."

_"Sure Gibbs, the girls and I are just doing a stake-out right now. Got some new leads on a cold case. Remember that Lieutenant Commander suspected of embezzling that died before his court date? We've finally gotten a lead on the money."_

"That's great Pacci. Paula and Cassie should get sick of a stake-out quickly enough. That'll motivate 'em into solving the case quick." Chris chucked on the other end of the line. "When you get the time could you run some searches under the radar for me?"

_"Well, so long as it doesn't loose me my job. Man doesn't get to Team Leader of the MCRT everday."_

"No, just the men that deserve it."

_"I don't deserve it as much as you did Gibbs. If you hadn't left when you did…"_

"No use talking about the past Chris. I need you to run ID's and known aliases of Mossad operatives entering the United States in the last year. Or suspected Mossad operatives."

_"Wow Gibbs, when you ask for a favor you really ask for a favor! There any particular reason you don't want the Israeli's to know your snooping around their people?"_ He paused. _"Or is it a little closer to home?"_

Gibbs' eyes narrowed.

"What makes you say that?"

_"Director McCallister was screaming up in his officer the other day at the head of Cybercrimes. Apparently all the Agency Directors have caught scent of fresh blood here in D.C. CIA, FBI, NSA. Everyone has Agents on the streets of DC looking for your new 'friend.' But nobody mentioned it to NCIS. McCallister doesn't like being the bottom of the ArmFed food chain."_

Gibbs felt a jolt of irritation; it appeared so quickly that it almost covered up the uneasy feeling he had.

"So word about the boy is getting around then? You have any intel on which dogs the CIA sent?"

_"I'm no help to you there Gibbs. But as soon as I can I'll look up your favor. I'll get back to you as soon as I can."_

The phone clicked as the call was disconnected and Gibbs laid it on his desk. So the ArmFed agencies were after the _Technopath_. Another good reason for the kid to stay out of the field. Because if the agencies had realized what his Gift was it was a sure bet that Ari had as well.

Ari. Gibbs felt his jaw clench tightly with anger.

It didn't make sense to him. Why Mossad had lied wasn't a mystery. They made a mistake somewhere. Wanted to clean up their own mess without having to reveal their dirty laundry to their allies. The woman wasn't a mystery. She was under orders; find Ari and get rid of him. Do not contact the government or police. She had found a useful ally on her own; one Mossad was likely urging her to bring back home with her.

But Ari…Ari was a mystery.

With his Gift he could almost literally live anywhere in the world in splendor. What had brought him to Washington D.C.?

The door rattled open and Tony entered, a grief stricken woman following behind him. Gibbs resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Another cheating husband. He nodded when Tony introduced him, but otherwise pretended to be invested in his paperwork. He listened with half an ear as the nameless woman filled Tony in on the details, but his mind was clearly elsewhere.

What was Ari doing in D.C.? -_NCIS_-

"Have you managed to find Kendall yet?"

Simon Frankle would have jumped almost a foot in the air if not for the firm hand on his shoulder. He hadn't heard Ari or Saleem enter the dark room that housed Ari's computer network. For a fearful moment he had the urge to lie, to tell his boss that he was getting close. But Saleem's hand on his shoulder forced the truth out of him.

"Not yet Mr. Hasewari. Erin Kendall was a very powerful 2nd Degree. I'm only a 3rd Degree. I can follow her digital trail easily enough but it seems like she is always a step ahead of me."

Ari sighed as he looked at the only _Technopath_ he had left. The only _Technopath_ to work for him voluntarily.

"You need to recover the plans that she stole. Without them every year spent here building my organization will have been a waste. Simon, do I need to explain to you how wasting that time would displease me?"

Simon shoot his head frantically. He had seen what had happened to Erin Kendall. Hooked up to an IV, strapped to a computer chair all day. When Ari had discovered what she had done he had pulled the IV and tossed her outside to the elements, leaving her body to die. Gulping he turned back to the computer. He couldn't do what Kendall did. He was a 3rd degree, he couldn't even see the network! Saleem's hand tightened, forcing this truth out of him.

"I can't see the network like Kendall could. Everything she did is still in the coding, but it's possible that she hid it well enough that I'll never be able to find it."

Ari's dark eyes landed on him. Simon's blood froze with terror. He would probably be killed for that comment. Not for the first time he cursed Ari's right hand man and his _Truth_ Gift.

"If you are so weak Simon, why should I keep you? What is stopping me from freeing up your wages for someone more useful to me?"

Simon swallowed and turned to look his boss in the eye.

"Because I'm the only _Technopath_ you have left. Without me it's guaranteed you will never see those plans again."

A smile broke across Ari's features and Simon's heart resumed beating again. 'Thank God', he thought. 'I've either amused or impressed him.' But Ari's smile quickly turned shark-like.

"That might not be true in the near future Simon. I'm sure you've heard the rumors just like I have. Mossad has sent my little sister here to kill me and she has found herself a new friend."

Simon felt his eyes widen with shock. Those rumors were true? He felt his heart racing. If there was a 1st Degree _Technopath_ in D.C. somewhere, Ari would find them. And then he would have no need for Simon Frankle.

"Already my best men and I are working out the best way to introduce myself to my sister's new friend. When he and I finally meet, I will no longer have a need for you. I might not even need those plans anymore." Ari rested a hand on Simon's shoulder, turning him back to the computer. "You have a new task Simon. I want you to gather as much information about my sister and her friend. If you find him for me, I might just let you live."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

_Tim was running. He had never felt so light on his feet before, had never been so exhilarated. Somehow he knew he should be afraid. But the excitement pumped jolts of adrenaline through his veins sending him high as a kite. He suddenly understood why people took such risks. He could only imagine the thrill one could get from the terror of free-falling off a cliff._

_Tim flew past doors; steel doors and all of them locked tight. None of them were the door he needed. Down the hall, just where it always had been, was the door he needed. He slammed against it, sliding behind and throwing it shut. Locking it with his Gift he looked up, triumphant into the face of his pursuer._

_There was no shock seeing those intense blue eyes this time. Gibbs leaned against the door, rattling it as he tried to force it open. Tim leaned forward, close enough to the glass of the small window that it misted from his breath. The steel door was ice cold to his exercised warmed skin. His nose brushed the glass; that too was cold. Gibbs leaned in closer as well. He raised a finger, planting it on the glass opposite Tim's nose._

_They were so close now, closer than they had ever been before. But still not close enough for Tim's satisfaction. On the other of the glass he could see Gibbs' lips moving, forming the words that he desperately want to hear. But no sound filtered through the glass. Ice blue eyes held him captive, Tim never wanted to be out of their sight._

_He resumed the script. Grinning more cheekily than he thought himself capable Tim waved before turning to jog up the stairs. He ignored the doors on every level, daring the event to rewrite itself. With a sense of disappointment he arrived on the roof._

_The gravel crunched loudly underfoot. In the distance he could hear the sound of nighttime traffic. The shadows shifted behind him, the hand reached out. Then the actors took the show off script._

_Tim felt Gibbs grasp his arm and pull. He was spun around and his back hit the door to the stairs. Eyes wide Tim tried to move forward, but another hand caught his hip and pinned him to the door. Gibbs moved closer and closer, until their clothes were brushing. Tim could feel the heat radiating off his pursuer's body. Gibbs' face kept coming closer. Their cheeks touched as Gibbs' lips lightly brushed against Tim's ear. Tim gasped, shuddering pleasurably at the sensation as hot breath touched his skin._

_"That didn't take long."_

Ziva's fist slammed into his gut, forcing all of the air from his lungs.

Thrown off balance and gasping Tim collapsed, wheezing, onto the practice mats. Clutching at his abdomen in sucked in gulps of oxygen. Ziva stood above him, watching him flounder with a displeased expression.

"Fighting takes concentration Tim. You cannot allow yourself to fall into complacency, even if the training is repetitious." Coughing Tim managed to push himself to his knees. Ziva offered him a hand up. Wisely Tim did not take it. "If you allow yourself to fantasize every time training becomes monotonous, it will become habit to fantasize while you train. If you fantasize every time you train, it will become habit to fantasize every time you fight. If you fantasize every time you fight someone will use that opening to kill you."

Tim nodded, struggling to his feet. Ziva scoffed at his pained look.

"I did not hit you that hard Tim. That was merely a wake up call to bring you out of your fantasy."

Tim groaned, still clutching his gut.

"Some people are softer in that area than you Ziva. Can't you think of a wake up call a little less painful?"

"Would you like me to emulate Detective Gibbs and strike you on the back of the head?"

Her grin was wicked, for a moment Tim feared for his safety.

"No, never mind. I'd probably end up in a constantly concussed state."

Both went back to their work. Ziva returned to the kitchen table to work on Ari's code and, after regaining his balance, Tim resumed the set of high kicks Ziva had told him to practice.

The action was monotonous. One-hundred repetitions of one kick. Tim soon felt his muscles begin to strain, his mind begin to wander. He set his jaw with a fierce determination. No more giving Ziva reasons to hit him! She might eventually forget to check the blow.

Instead he focused on his movement. The fact that his ankle no longer twinged with pain, completely healed. Keeping the kick just as high as it had been the first time. He focused on his breathing, drawing the air in through his nose and pausing before releasing it slowly out his mouth. But focusing on himself wasn't enough. He was sure half of the reason for Ziva's hit had been because he wasn't paying attention to his surroundings.

Ziva sat at her kitchen table, printouts scattered in front of her and a pen in hand. Her brow was furrowed from her frown. It seemed as if every time they got close to cracking the code Ari created a new one. He could tell that the frustration was going to drive his friend to action. He wanted to be ready to accompany here when she made her move.

After finishing his last set of kicks Tim walked the perimeter of the room to cool himself down. We he decided he could rest without cramping up he joined Ziva at the kitchen table.

"You having any luck with the new code?"

"No!" She snarled, marking the paper so viciously the pen ripped through. "I have gone through every code-breaking technique I know and I am no closer than where I was last week!"

Tim picked through the papers with a frown. Ziva had marked up most of the pages with her notes, which were written in a mix of English and Hebrew. He could barely read the original message now.

"How about I print off another copy of this and tonight we can look at it together. Maybe a fresh set of eyes will help."

"No." Ziva turned to Tim. "We have other places to be tonight."

Tim raised an eyebrow.

"You mean _you_ have other places to be tonight."

He doesn't really believe it's a grammatical slip though, doesn't want to believe, and the hope in him begins to rise.

"No, I meant we." Ziva pushes herself away from the table as she stands. "I am ill and exhausted of puzzling through Ari's codes. We are going to find a key."

Tim felt his excitement growing. His first mission back on the streets! Finally! A chance to test out his new skills. To see Gibbs again.

"Where are we going to find a key?"

Ziva smiled.

"We just need to ask find someone who knows it to make us a copy."

"So, we need to find someone to supply us with the information we need?" Tim and Ziva shared matching wicked looks. "We haven't visited our friend Jeffery in awhile. Maybe we should pay him a visit so he doesn't feel neglected."

"We would not want him to think we had forgotten about him."

Jeffrey White was one of many small time suppliers to Ari's organization. Originally from Seattle, Jeffrey had fled to the safe autonomy of Ari's blossoming Gifted organization after suspicion for a few violent murders landed on his shoulders. No one had known for sure if he had done it, but the fact that he had fled was pretty telling.

Jeffrey's gift was a blessing for a man in his business. When he first arrived in D.C. Jeffrey had made a living as a small time drug dealer. His _Blend_ Gift allowed him to disappear into the background of any setting. It didn't make him invisible, but no one would see him unless they already knew he was there. It made things easy for Jeffrey to slip into drugstores and make off with something that would make him a quick buck. He still did sometimes, when Ari's business was slow.

They set out from the shop at dusk carrying both their masks and jackets to Ziva's car. Knowing that general area that Jeffrey usually haunted Ziva drove them in that direction while Tim pulled out his smart phone. He quickly pulled up an app that he had designed himself, for himself and Ziva. After plugging in the number of Jeffrey's cell phone he waited a few moments. Soon enough Jeffrey's coordinates were displayed on the apps map. When they neared the rundown neighborhood Ziva pulled the car over.

Both quickly pulled on their masks and jackets. As Tim studied the map Ziva pulled her hair back in a high ponytail. Handing her his phone Tim quickly took stock of his gear. The collapsible baton was buckled to his belt within easy reach and both pants pockets held a small can of pepper spray. He'd lain his gloves across his lap while he used his phone; now he pulled them on, grinning as he flexed his fingers.

"Here."

Tim blinked, surprised. Ziva was holding a short knife out to him. The blade looked to be around six inches long and extremely sharp. He took it from her with a raised eyebrow. Hadn't she told him that he wasn't allowed a dangerous weapon?

"There is a sheath for it built into your boot. I told Malachi you are left handed, he should have sent the right kind of boots." Tim leaned forward, probing about the boot and sheathing the knife. Ziva leaned across the console between them, he intense look amplified by her black mask. "Do not use this knife unless there is no other option! Do not draw it to intimidate someone. That is what the baton is for. Do not use it to deter someone, use the pepper spray instead."

Reaching out she snagged a hold of Tim's chin, turning his face towards her.

"You are only allowed to use that knife if you are completely alone and likely about to die."

Gulping nervously Tim nodded. Ziva smiled and patted his cheek.

"Good."

The two got out of the car, Ziva didn't bother locking it. She had bought the old Chevy Cavalier used at a good price. They needed to be able to get in the car quickly if they were being pursued and they old car didn't have electronic locks. If someone decided to steal it, it would just get stolen. They would have to store their gear in bags and take a bus or a cab home.

Together they crept through the shadowed alleyways. Now that the sun had set the streetlights were bright, the ones that weren't smashed. Most of the buildings they past were empty, shops that were closed. A few were bars that were just beginning to fill up. One large building had been converted into a nightclub, music and the sound of people blaring loudly.

Occasionally they would run across someone in the alleys. A bartender bringing out trash or a couple whose activities were progressing beyond what the nightclub staff would allow inside.

When they ran across these people they slinked past, keeping to the shadows. Once an attentive bartender heard them and started towards the dumpsters hiding them to identify what he had heard. Tim stared, wide eyed, at Ziva completely at a loss for what to do. He was completely unprepared when Ziva hissed at him. Shaking his head in confusion Ziva leaned forward and knocked around the trash on the ground. The bartender turned around, muttering about 'damn cats' and went back into his bar. The two continued on their way.

They found Jeffery in an alleyway a few blocks away from the nightclub. He was in the middle of a sale so the two hid behind a dumpster to watch. The short man didn't look much like a drug dealer. His glasses were thick rimmed and his loose button up shirt was tucked into his pants. The old pair of jeans and worn tennis shoes he wore looked to have been picked up from a second hand store.

A group of three teenagers dressed for a party crowded around him. They each contributed a few bills and received a baggie full of little pills. They headed towards the nightclub and had each taken a pill by the time they reached the mouth of the alley. Tim watched them go, shaking his head with shame. They looked to be about Sarah's age, could have been her classmates! Sarah knew better though, he had made sure of that before he left for MIT.

Ziva tapped Tim on the shoulder, motioning for him to stay put. He nodded and watched as she backed up slowly and clambered up a fire escape.

Jeffrey quickly counted the bills, separating the largest and smallest. Glancing about nervously he put them into separate pockets. Tim couldn't tell if the man was aware that he was being observed or if all drug dealers were this twitchy. Jeffrey's eyes swept the alley again before he took the larger bills and bent down to stash them inside a shoe.

He had just began to rise when Ziva chose to pounce.

For a moment the alley was filled with Jeffrey's screams. Then Ziva cut him off with a hand over his mouth. He tried to use his Gift to escape out of sight, but Ziva held him in a vice like grip, refusing to let him go. Tim jumped up from his hiding place to aid him friend. Not that she needed it.

Jeffrey was on the ground by the time Tim emerged from behind the dumpster, he didn't bother rushing over. The smaller man thrashed under Ziva, his glasses precariously balanced on the end of his nose. Pitiful sounds slipped past the hand wrapped around his mouth. Tim approached slowly and at a signal from his partner he crouched down to tap Jeffrey on the shoulder.

Jeffrey's eyes were squeezed tightly shut with tears prickling in the corners. At Tim's tap he hesitantly opened them, tilting his head to see through his skewed glasses. Catching sight of Tim's grinning face he stilled completely, except for his furiously shaking head. Now that he wasn't fighting them Ziva released him and the two vigilantes stood.

"No, no, no!" Jeffrey stayed on the ground, looking around the alley as if he expected Ari's men to appear out of the darkness any second. "You can't be here! You can't keep talking to me like this. You're going to get me killed!"

He scrambled to his feet, straightening his clothes and brushing at stains that had probably been there before he bought them. Fixing his glasses he once again surveyed the area. When no thugs with guns appeared he glared at his two assailants.

"You can't keep coming to me like this. If Saleem or Ari finds out they will kill me. But before they do that they will turn me over to those sadists Pazzo and Hirst to find out how much I told you. Those bastards have the _Pain_ Gift!"

Tim managed to hide his wince. He had imagined that Ari's gang had someone with that particular Gift. But it was still slightly horrifying to have it confirmed. Ziva smiled, seemingly unconcerned.

"How many times have you ever seen Saleem Jeffrey? How many times have you spoken with Ari?" Jeffrey flushed. "If they do not associate with the peons now and you do not do something stupid to attract their attention they will not pay attention to you in the future."

Jeffrey's shoulders slumped, looking to the disgusting concrete between his feet. For a moment Tim caught sight of a fury on his face, but as he looked up Jeffrey only looked resigned.

"Fine, fine. Now what do you want?"

Tim stepped forward.

"Ari has began coding the messages he sends to the organization. Every time we get close to cracking it he changes the code." Jeffrey flinched. "We want you to give us the key."

Jeffrey shrugged his shoulders.

"I can't help you. We don't get a copy of the key, they make us memorize it."

Tim smiled.

"That's fine. You can write it down for us."

Jeffrey shook his head.

"I don't have no paper."

Ziva pulled a small notepad and pen from a pocket. Jeffrey took it with a frown. He sent them one last pleading glance before he began jotting down the key to the code. Writing quickly he muttered to himself, occasionally shooting them hateful glances. Eventually he handed the notepad back to Ziva, who glanced over it quickly before she shoved it back into her pocket.

"This key had better be right Jeffrey." Tim leaned in close, poking the shorter man in the chest. "Otherwise we'll be back." He shot Ziva a conspiratorial glance. "And if we find out you double crossed us, you'll only wish you were with Pazzo and Hirst."

Jeffrey glanced to Ziva wearily. She smiled, waving to him coyly. A commotion at the mouth of the alley caught all of their attention. Four thugs, all outfitted with some form of weapon, were searching around the dumpsters. They were calling Jeffrey's name. The mans face was ashen. Because he was afraid to be caught with them or because he was afraid of the thugs Tim didn't know. He raised an eyebrow.

"Friends of yours?"

Jeffrey shook his head violently.

"I owe them money."

Ziva nodded, shoving him towards the other end of the alley.

"We will deal with them for now. Get out of here."

For a moment a myriad of emotions filtered across Jeffrey's face; shock, confusion, gratitude and regret. Then he activated his Gift and disappeared from sight.

Tim turned his eyes to Ziva. She was leaning against the dumpster, watching the approaching men with what at first glance appeared to be boredom. But to Tim's trained eye he could see that she was evaluating them; their strengths and weaknesses. The weapons they carried.

All four were armed with something or other. The tallest carried a length of heavy chain. The shortest a rusted and bent pipe. The twitchy fellow in the middle kept swinging his baseball bat nervously and the last carried a long knife.

Tim leaned against the dumpster next to Ziva attempting to mimic her posture. The four were drawing closer and closer. Ziva looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Tim saw her lip quirk into a smile.

"Let us think of this as 'on the job' training. Baseball bat and Knife are mine."

Nodding Tim fingered the baton on his belt. Swallowing he tried to ease the nervous feeling in his gut. 'Just remember your training,' he told himself. 'Remember the training and everything will be fine.'

Chain spotted them first. He called to his friends and the four thugs approached arrogantly. Ziva pushed off the dumpster and a moment later Tim followed. He was sure that Knife wasn't expecting Ziva's kick to his face when the two groups drew close. The shocked stillness only lasted a moment before all four screamed with rage and attacked.

-_NCIS_-

Tony was on the last of the sandwiches that he had brought with him. He chewed slowly, nose crinkled with disgusted. The bread was soggy from being in a cooler all day. Sitting low in the drivers' seat he kept a close eye on two of the three entrances to the nightclub.

Tony had been thrilled to receive a case that didn't involve a cheating husband. An old Marine buddy of Gibbs' was now the Maine State Senator. The Senator believed that his aide was selling government secrets, but hadn't wanted to bring in the authorities until he was sure. He had hired Gibbs and DiNozzo to confirm his suspicions three weeks ago. After three weeks of surveillance Tony had decided that watching a corrupt Senators aide was a lot like watching a cheating husband.

So far for three weeks Tony had observed the purchase of new clothes, a test drive of a Ferrari and a whole lot of hookers. Tony wasn't sure if the two women the aide had escorted into the nightclub tonight were hookers. It was highly likely though.

A commotion coming from an alley down the street caught Tony's attention. Several figures spilled out onto the street, clearly in the middle of a brawl. Tony raised his digital camera, zooming in on the figures and snapping a few shots. You never knew what could come in useful later. When in doubt photograph everything.

He almost dropped the camera in shock when he recognized two of the figures. Batchick and her Boy Wonder! Abruptly he tossed the camera into the passenger seat, checking that he had his gun before jumping out of his car. As he neared the six fighters he fished his badge.

The four thugs were armed but the two vigilantes were not helpless. As he neared Tony could clearly see that the Boy Wonder hadn't just been sitting on his ass for the last two months. The man with the chain ran at him, swinging the heavy weapon violently. Ducking underneath, the _Technopath_ turned, slamming a shoulder into the other mans chest as he swept his feet out from under him. Chain-man fell and his chain was quickly kicked out of reach.

Batchick was doing very well for herself. Baseball bat and Knife attacked her at the same time. She ducked and weaved between the two, never throwing a blow of her own. Just letting the two lugs beat on each other.

Chain-man was rising to his feet as Tony approached. Quickly he drew his weapon and yelled.

"Freeze! You're all under arrest!"

Instantly all four thugs abandoned the fight, fleeing into the dark alleys. Batchick turned to him, grinning widely, while Boy Wonder bent over, resting his hands on his knees and panting heavily. Batchick turned to him with a critical eye.

"You have not been practicing your breathing exercises."

Boy Wonder shook his head, breathing deeply.

"I have. Just in the moment...I forgot."

Tony kept his gun trained on the two.

"So, you two have completely embraced the vigilante lifestyle huh? Going around kickin' ass and takin' names where ever evil lurks?" He leered at the woman when she turned to him. "Batchick, always a pleasure." He grinned at the man. "Boy Wonder! I see you're back to work!"

The kid stood up, back ramrod straight, a look of surprised embarrassment on his face.

"Boy Wonder? No, I'm not her sidekick!"

Tony laughed snidely.

"Yes, yes you are."

Boy Wonder shook his head, glancing between Tony and Batchick. She was having a hard time keeping a straight face.

"No, we are partners! I'm not her sidekick, I'm her partner."

"She's you boss!"

Batchick coughed and Boy Wonder's face flushed. Tony gestured back towards his car with the gun.

"So, like I said, both of you are under arrest. Are you going to come along quietly? Or do I need to use force?"

Boy Wonder glanced at Batchick nervously. It was so obvious how inexperienced the kid was sometimes. Tony had to agree with Gibbs on this one. She needed to keep him safe back at home base.

"Do you really think that you can take on the both of us and win?"

Batchick was a cool customer.

"Well, I don't have to take on both of you. That's what the gun is for."

"Do you really expect us to believe that you would shoot us Detective DiNozzo? After all, we aren't criminals. We are almost on the same side."

Tony frowned. She had a point, he wouldn't shoot them. Usually he got the perp's handcuffed and in the car before they figured that out.

"A fight between us would not end well for anyone Detective DiNozzo. What do you say we call this a good try and go our separate ways?"

Tony sighed, before holstering his gun and dropping his badge back into his pocket.

"Alright, but this is the last freebie you get! Next time I see you, you gonna be spending the night in a jail cell."

Batchick and Boy Wonder didn't stick around. A few moments after the gun disappeared they had as well. Tony stared down the alley for a few minutes. Trying to decided whether to try and follow them or not. Deciding against it he returned to his car. The Senator's aide was probably long gone by now. No use sticking around here. He should probably update Gibbs on the situation anyway. Well, the situations.

He sighed, sliding into the drivers' seat. Gibbs was going to be pissed.

The drive to the craftsman style home that Gibbs shared with his boat didn't take as long as Tony had wished it could have. Traffic was fairly scarce this time of night. At least it was on the shortcuts Tony took by habit. Pulling into the driveway he cursed himself for not taking the scenic route.

Gibbs' door was unlocked, like always. Tony slipped inside quickly taking stock of the cluttered living room and the dish filled sink on his way to the basement stairs. As he stepped onto the staircase he could see Gibbs looking up. When he saw who had come in he went back to his sanding. The man always seemed to be sanding when Tony came over.

"Hey Boss. You'll never guess who I ran into tonight."

Gibbs put down the sander-tool-thingy, walking over to the shelf to pull down a half empty bottle of bourbon. Tony made a face when he was presented a Mason jar that's prior occupation in life was holding rusty nails. By hey, he'd had his tetanus shot. He took the glass and sipped at it, only wincing with disgust when Gibbs' back was turned.

"Our Israeli friend?"

Tony nodded.

"Yep and she wasn't alone."

Gibbs rounded abruptly. His face a mask of barely concealed rage.

"She brought the kid back out onto the streets?"

Tony nodded.

"She's been training him it seems. They were whipping up a couple of street thugs when I saw em. He wasn't doing too bad. Also, apparently he doesn't like being called a sidekick. Seems to have a very sensitive ego. Got very defensive about it."

Gibbs cocked an eyebrow, staring Tony down.

"And I of course brought that up one sidekick to another Boss." Gibbs turned back to his boat, taking another swig of bourbon. Tony almost sighed with relief. "So why did you tell me not to call you if I saw them? That's a pretty odd request. Do you think the kids tracking out phone conversations?"

"Not him."

Tony's eyes narrowed.

"But someone is?"

Gibbs raised a finger for silence as he turned on the small-outdated radio on his shelf. Tony's worry grew and he leaned close to whisper.

"Boss, did someone bug your basement? I can go get Abby and we can sweep the house."

"No, if there are bugs it be suspicious for them to disappear."

Tony nodded.

"So who's listening in on you?"

"Pacci gave me the heads up. Apparently the CIA and FBI have been nosing around some of our crime scenes."

Tony's eyebrows shot into his hairline.

"What do they want with you?"

Gibbs beckoned Tony closer. He leaned in, listening intently. He didn't expect the whack to the back of his head.

"They don't want anything to do with me. It's the possible 1st degree _Technopath_ that has them chomping at the bit."

Realization struck. That made a lot more sense and it was very worrying.

"If he keeps using his Gift in public he's just going to make it easier for them to find him Boss!" Another thought occurred to him. "We can't bring him in. If we do he'll just vanish from the cell. The CIA will have him spirited off to some Top Secret hideout and who knows what they will do to him!"

Gibbs frowned. Tony was momentarily surprised to see how much this was worrying the older man. He knew why he was worried. But Gibbs had only met the kid, what, the once? He knew what those big green eyes did to some people, but had Gibbs succumbed to them as well?

Tony watched as Gibbs put the mug down and pick up the sander-tool-thingy again.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now though, no discussing them on the phone, or without some sound to cover a bug, no reporting them to the police either. They're showing up at past crime scenes to look for evidence, best to keep them as out of the loop as possible."

Tony nodded, taking another swig of bourbon. It wasn't so bad once you got the hang of it.

"Now, what happened with the Senator's aide?"

Well, crap.


End file.
